House of the Setting Sun 8: House Party
by BattleKitten
Summary: It's All Hallow's Eve and the Things that go bump in the night are meant to stay in and bump at home... but that doesn't mean they can't still have a scream
1. Teaser

Hi guys. Firstly, I'm very sorry. I know I said this would be posted by the 1st, but although it was ready in time, the last week has just been so darn busy I didn't get a chance to do this until now. Secondly... here's the start of the next episode :)

Disclaimer: Joss owns the universe and all the characters previously seen and/or heard of on BtVS and Ats. I make absolutely no money from this hobby. All original characters are mine (but Joss can use them if he wants to ;).

Rating: Young adult (15). Mild language; mild scenes of a sexual nature; nudity; semi-graphic violence - so you know, just like Buffy.

Pairings: Faith/Buffy predominantly, but also het and boyslash.

Summary: It's All Hallow's Eve and the things that go bump in the night are meant to stay in and bump at home... but that doesn't mean they can't still have a scream.

House party

_Teaser_

It was a warm night for the end of October. Too nippy to forgo a light jacket, but pleasant all the same. There was a slight ground mist spreading itself over the camp's back garden and the smell of wood smoke was drifting in from somewhere.

It was almost enough to make a man a tad homesick, so it was just as well there were so many distractions to take his mind from it.

Reece was standing just outside the back door with a cigarette while he waited for his Slayer to be ready for patrolling. He'd been assigned to Rona, much to his chagrin. It wasn't that she wasn't good – or beautiful for that matter – but she was bloody difficult when it all came down to it, not to mention a good friend of Dawn's.

Speaking of whom…

"According to Fen these parties are, like, the parties to end all parties, and Fen knows parties." Dawn chattered on, her nose wrinkling at the smell of the cigarette smoke. "So, did you want to go?"

"Hmm?" Rona was nowhere in sight, but Cici and Miranda were out in front of their dormitory, warming up with plenty of stretching; Reece smiled as he watched them.

"Do you want to come with me?" Dawn clarified, rolling her eyes. All Reece thought about sometimes was Watching and the freakin' Slayers.

She knew why he was being careful. After what had happened their first night together a couple of weeks ago, he didn't want Giles or Buffy thinking he was neglecting his duty to fool around with her. She respected that, totally, but did he have to be so dutiful when no one was around to see him.

"I know what you're thinking – it's a high school Halloween party, it has lame written all over it, but it might be kinda cool and I thought as it's your only official night of the year off," Dawn grinned. "It might be nice to spend it together."

Reece realised Dawn's chatter had stopped expectantly and tore his eyes away from Miranda's bum to focus on her. "I'm sorry, sweetheart?"

"Reece!"

"No, I was listening. Halloween party tomorrow night; you want to show me off to all your school friends," he smiled at her. "I think we can arrange that."

"Really?" Dawn bounced on her toes a little.

"Of course, who else would I want to spend my night off with?" Flicking his cigarette away, he leaned in to give Dawn a small kiss on the lips. "I can't wait."

"Are you sure? I mean, I know you're not going to know anyone…"

"Well, here's an idea," Reece glanced over to where the Slayers were limbering up. "Why not ask the girls if they would like to join us? It's their night off too."

"That's a great idea!" Dawn bobbed up and down again, clapping her hands once before gripping his shoulders. "That way you won't feel all… left out or whatever, when I'm with my friends. Not that I'd let you feel left out," she added quickly, "But it never hurts to have a back up plan, right?"

"I think you're back up plan is perfect, Dawn," Reece smiled. "I can't expect you to stay glued to my side all night, and I'm sure the slayers will keep me well entertained when you're not."

"Cool! Oh, here comes Rona, you better go," Dawn pulled him down by his shoulders so she could give him a kiss goodbye, which he happily obliged her with. "I'll see you in the morning. Safe patrol!"

He smiled at her, catching her hand as he stepped back and giving it a quick kiss. "Goodnight."

Dawn stared at the back of his gorgeous head in glee for a few seconds, barely containing her excitement. This party was going to be so darn cool! She was going to have the best looking boyfriend there _and_ she was going to look totally popular when she turned up with all the slayers too. Wiggling her fingers in front of her with anticipation, she rushed to her bedroom to phone Fen.

Reece walked across the back lawn in the twilight to where Rona was waiting impatiently for him – as if she hadn't just kept _him_ waiting for twenty minutes. Miranda was stretching out her calf muscles, bent right over at the waist, gripping the backs of her own ankles. Her light sweater had ridden up and the black leggings she wore were taut over her backside.

Reece smirked, enjoying the view. "Nice form, Miranda,"

"Really? Thanks." Miranda beamed at him – upside down and through her legs.

Reece chuckled as he walked on by, thinking this party could be very good fun indeed.

* * *

"Hey!" Willow greeted, surprised but pleased to walk into her newly decorated bedroom and find Kennedy already in there. "What'cha doing?" 

Kennedy was on her knees in front of the bookcase neatly placing books on the shelves. Top shelf for Willow's books on magic, bottom shelf for Kennedy's books on rare martial arts, weapons and of course… her Playboys.

"Figured one of us had better put this lot back," Kennedy waved at the books still littering the new blue carpet. "Besides it's been a week and the piles all over the place were starting to get on my nerves."

Willow knelt down next to her, "Ha; I knew if I just stayed out of the room enough, you'd crack first."

Kennedy chuckled, "As long as that's the only reason."

Willow gave a wry grin as she looked over to one corner, where a large, brand new, faux leather, pink dog bed had been placed. In the bed, with her stumpy legs hanging over one side and her head mostly obscured by a cheap blanket, lay Goorzar – fast asleep.

"Well, I admit, I was hoping she'd get accustomed to Faith's room and wouldn't want to follow us here, but… I suppose it's not like she's any _real_ trouble."

"Thanks Willow," Kennedy smiled, leaning over to give her girlfriend a peck on the lips. "I know it's not ideal, but as soon as Andrew gets his own room she can sleep in there most of the time. I honestly never thought she'd get used to bunking with us that quickly."

"It's okay," Willow shrugged. "I don't mind, really, it's just a bit… well, there's kind of a privacy issue."

Kennedy laughed softly, going back to putting the books away. "Will, I told you! She doesn't care if you get undressed in front of her; she doesn't even understand the concept of getting undressed. You're wasting you inhibitions on a baby. You wouldn't be embarrassed getting undressed in front of a human baby, would you? It's no different just 'cause she's furry."

"I wasn't really talking about that, although, yes, I probably would feel embarrassed getting undressed in front of a baby, but I was talking more about, you know, other stuff." Willow smiled coquettishly.

"Oh." Kennedy smiled slightly as the message sank in. "That kind of privacy."

"Uh huh."

The touch of Willow's lips caused the same jolt of energy, the same explosion of heat, the same pleasant shiver of sensation all over her body, as it always had, and Kennedy sat there amongst the books enjoying it all.

Willow's right arm went around Kennedy's back as she slumped sideways from her knees to her butt. Bracing her left arm the other side of Kennedy's thighs, she leaned into her lover as she kissed her, loving the way their bodies touched together in places.

It was the longest kiss they'd shared in two weeks, and Willow was prepared to do her damnedest to make it the most passionate too.

Gently she pushed forward; her arm around Kennedy's back ensuring a slow descent to the pristine carpet.

They were almost lying flat out on the floor – still kissing – when Kennedy abruptly pulled away. She stared into Willow's eyes for a moment, as if shocked that she'd come to be in such a position, and then she sat up again, staring at her knees.

Willow dropped the rest of the way to the floor, asking as causally as she could, "Is something wrong?"

"No, everything's fine." Kennedy shot her a quick smile as she stood up. "I just realised I'm running late, that's all."

Willow looked out of the window, noticing that darkness had indeed fallen. She couldn't argue with sacred duty, at least not if she wanted to win. Rolling on to her tummy, she looked up at Kennedy. The Slayer was standing in front of their full length mirror, brushing her hair.

Willow's brow creased in a light frown. "Those aren't very patrol-y clothes. Aren't you worried you'll get them ruined?"

Kennedy checked out her outfit in the mirror, taking a second to appreciate her own hotness in the new jeans and tight cerise baby-T. Slaying was a tough gig, but no one could deny it was good for your figure. She'd always kept in shape, but she'd never been this toned and healthy looking before.

"Not patrolling tonight," she answered, keeping her tone neutral and fussing with the front of her hair a little. "Vi asked if I wanted to catch a movie with her down at Lakeside."

Willow sat up slowly, her frown deepening, "Vi asked you?"

"Yep. We probably won't be late, but don't wait up if we are, okay? I know you and… you and…" After the second hesitation, Kennedy just changed the sentence. "You have an early start tomorrow."

Willow's face dropped altogether now. "If this is about…"

"It's not," Kennedy cut her off, holding out her hands to pull Willow up. When the witch was on her feet, Kennedy gave her a quick kiss. "I'll bring you back some Duds. See you."

Willow stared after her as Kennedy left the room, and then, heaving a big, disappointed sigh, turned to Goorzar's snoozing form.

"Guess it's just you and me, Girl…"

Willow hadn't even finished her sentence when the little demon sensed her Mommy had left the room. Throwing her blanket out of the bed, Goorzar scrambled to her big feet and scurried out of the bedroom in search of her.

Willow tried not to feel rejected by that as she sighed again and sat back down amongst the books scattered across the floor.

"Guess it's just me then… _again_."

* * *

Buffy looked up at the soft knock on her bedroom door with a smile and a roll of her eyes. Wow, she'd been back from patrol for a whole thirty minutes, this was like a new record. 

She walked to the door and opened it wide, leaning on the frame to effectively block the way in.

"What kept you?" she grinned.

Faith grinned back, still dusty and dishevelled from slaying. "Me and Ali met up with some Krano demons in the city; B, you missed a sweet time."

"You took Alison into the city?"

Faith pre-empted Buffy's displeasure. "Yeah, but hey, it was Ali's idea, so bust her ass about it, not mine."

"I'm sure you took a lot of convincing."

"Not really," Faith's tongue curled over her lower lip as she swept her eyes up and down Buffy's body, checking out the red checked shirt and the bare thigh below. "You ready for bed already, babe?"

"Yup. Early start in the morning."

"Good. I'm all for time-savin'." Faith stepped forward, aiming to get into the room.

Buffy, grinning, shifted in the doorway to hold her perimeter. "Not so fast, F."

"Not so fast?" Faith repeated, and it was her turn to roll her eyes. "Not so slow, B!"

Buffy laughed. "It's late…ish, and you're bedroom's that way, remember?"

"B, perhaps you didn't hear me: There were Kranos! You know what they're like, right?"

"Sure," Buffy smiled. "Feisty hand-to-hand fighters. Able to pop in and out of our dimension as easily as we do the Hokey-Pokey so you never know which way to face. Get ya all riled up beyond reason and then pop out and never pop back. That the demons you're talking about?"

"That'd be them, yeah." Faith fidgeted on the threshold.

Buffy leaned closer, "Did you slay them?"

Faith shook her head, "Nah, I let Ali get some glory while keeping the rest of the bastards off of her. She got a couple, but then they realised they were getting beat and did what you said."

"So you got all the fight and none of the slay?"

Faith nodded. Her skin was flushed and her eyes were bright, and Buffy could practically hear the blood rushing through her veins… and she didn't need two guesses at which direction it was heading in.

"There is no way I'm letting you in here tonight, Faith." Buffy smirked, folding her arms. "No way."

Faith put her palms flat on the frame, one either side of the doorway, and leaned in.

"Come on, B, just five minutes."

"No way."

"You always let me in for five minutes." Faith softly kissed her cheek.

"Yeah," Buffy agreed. "And then I spend the next hour trying to get you back out."

Faith chuckled, "Yeah, well, ya need a new method; obviously wrapping your legs around me while putting your tongue in my mouth isn't working." She kissed a little closer to Buffy's lips.

Buffy moved her face away, smiling gently. "I _have_ a new method and its working okay so far."

"Fine," Faith let go of the doorframe, straightening her tank top and brushing some invisible debris from her breasts. "If you don't wanna spend any quality time with me today, I'll just go to my room and… amuse myself."

"What'cha gonna do?"

Faith gave her a faintly amused look that said it all.

Buffy closed her eyes, smiling and shaking her head a little; really wishing she hadn't asked. When she opened her eyes again, Faith was backing down the hallway.

"Are you going without your goodnight kiss?"

Faith shrugged, "Thought that was what you wanted."

Buffy smiled and waggled her finger in a 'come here' gesture. As Faith complied, Buffy reached out an arm, grabbed the front of her red top and jerked her closer. They were kissing by the time Faith's chest was pressed to Buffy's own.

Buffy felt the doorframe biting into her back as Faith pushed her against it, and hands… there were hands rubbing up and down her sides – Faith's idea of being good; she had no idea what the innocent touch did to Buffy – they were accidentally tugging her nightshirt up an inch every time until she could feel a draught on her ass.

"We're still in the corridor," Buffy murmured between kisses, nearly breathless from Faith's lips.

"I'm not allowed in." Faith murmured back.

"I guess five minutes won't hurt."

Buffy used her body to push Faith into her room, reaching back blindly to shove the door shut so that their lips could keep in contact on the long voyage to the bed. They stumbled their way there, hitting it side on together and tumbling on top of the comforter.

They lay on their sides, kissing with apparently no need for air for well over the five minutes. Buffy couldn't help it. How could she keep an eye on the time when she had these perfect smooth soft lips pressing and teasing and challenging her own? Faith's lips made her lips strive to be better lips. How could she care about curfews when she had this amazingly nimble and wonderfully lively tongue playing so well with her own? Faith's tongue was a pro, her mouth was the Super bowl and Buffy's tongue was riding hers all the way to the big game.

Buffy's leg wanted a shot at the glory too; creeping up and over Faith's thigh. It wasn't a conscious move, her thigh had a mind of its own and it exercised it's free will every time she was kissing Faith while lying down.

Of course, as soon as Buffy's leg started acting up – all of Faith started acting up.

She rolled Buffy beneath her, struggling out her new jacket at the same time. Turned out this was impossible lying down, or, just impossible while lying down and kissing. Faith pushed herself to her knees to shed the restricting denim quicker.

"What are you doing?" Buffy chuckled.

"Uh, taking off my coat."

"Why?"

"Well… 'cause we're making out."

"And you need to take your coat off to do that?"

Faith laughed at her. "B, I'm just getting comfortable!"

"I can see that, F." Buffy stopped Faith from lying back down with a hand on her chest. "A bit too comfortable."

"It's a coat! I'm hardly stripping naked. And besides, you're lyin' here in just a shirt and…" She flicked the hem up too fast for Buffy to stop her and her eyes went wide. "…just a shirt."

Buffy blushed hard and pulled the big shirt down again to cover the nakedness beneath. "Okay, make out's over."

"Aw, babe, don't be like that," Faith, grinning, lay down close to Buffy. "I'll put my coat back on if ya like?"

"Faith, no, you have to…" Buffy began, her voice stern. She paused when she saw Faith's eyes slide away, frustrated and annoyed. "I'm sorry, okay. I'm just… not there yet."

"You seem pretty there when I'm kissing you," Faith muttered sullenly. "Your leg seems pretty there when it's wrapping around me."

"That's because…" Buffy paused again, stuck for the best way to explain until she remembered this was Faith, and that blunt truth was always the best way to go when it came to sex. "Faith, that's because my lips _are_ ready, and my leg is ready – both of them in fact – and… there are other… more intimate… parts of my body that are ready." Okay so there was blunt truth and there was her ability to speak blunt language, and the two didn't always mesh well. "I think the majority of my body has been ready and waiting for you since before I even realised it, but… there are other parts that need a little more time."

Faith had stayed silent, her smile coming back and growing as the speech went on. When Buffy finished, the smile wasn't overjoyed, but Faith didn't look away as she said, "Let me guess, this part and this part." She pointed to Buffy's heart and then her head.

"Yeah," Buffy said softly. "I can't help it. It's only been two weeks and we haven't really progressed a whole lot, have we? We still haven't even had a proper conversation yet. I mean, the only times we really see each other is at breakfast and when you come to say goodnight."

"I told you I had a lotta stuff to do!" Faith said, exasperated. "Xander's had me working non-stop. Decorating Willow and Ken's room, plastering ceilings and tiling the damn shower block. And you've not exactly been available much. If you're not training the slayer-kids with Kennedy or training the Watcher-kids with Giles, you're off doing whatever the hell it is you do with Red. And now Giles has me acting as Alison's Watcher my evenings are booked too…" She rolled onto her back to stare up at the ceiling. "Why the hell he wants me doing that, I'll never get."

"He was impressed with the way you handled that Slayer in prison." Buffy rolled to her side and supported herself on her elbow so she could look at Faith.

"Her name's Janey," Faith reminded her sharply.

"Right," Buffy nodded.

Faith sighed. "Believe me, Buffy, if I could spend every freakin' minute of the day with you, I would, but between Xander, Giles and Devenrowe, I don't get a freakin' minute."

"I know, its okay," Buffy said gently.

"Well, obviously its not, because you can barely stand to kiss me for more than a minute at a time right now."

"Oh, I can stand to kiss you forever, Faith," Buffy smirked, "It's just that it only takes a minute before you start seriously turning me on and then..." It was her turn to sigh deeply.

Faith turned her head to look up at Buffy, raising an eyebrow. "And that's not a good thing?"

"Good, yes; wise, not yet."

"So what the hell are we going to do about it? Because I'm going crazy here, and you know where that leads."

Despite Faith's serious tone, Buffy chuckled. "I think you're exaggerating, but if you're really worried, I'll cut a deal with you. If you find yourself about to…"

"Go evil and kill someone?" Faith offered.

"Yeah, if you think you're in any danger of that, come tell me and I'll do you right there and then," Buffy grinned.

"Really?"

"Promise."

Faith's face went slack for a second, and then she fixed Buffy with the old crazy eyes, as best as she could remember how they went anyway. Keeping her voice low, and trying to inject some menace, she asked, "You got any big, sharp knives in here, B?"

"Yep, but you're not having any of them… Hey, look at that, I just found a way to keep the world safe without having sex with you," Buffy's grin grew as she leaned down to kiss Faith sweetly on the lips. "I always was good at improvising."

"Yeah you're shit hot, B." Faith grumbled. "Don't help our sitch though, does it?"

"Well," Buffy thought for a moment while she played with some strands of Faith's hair; after all, it wasn't as if she wasn't itching to get to 'ready' herself. "I guess I could always come and watch you swing a hammer sometime, and you could ask Xander for an hour off now and again to help me with the baby-slayers. That way we could spend some more time together."

"Sounds like a plan that could work," Faith nodded, reaching up to run a hand through Buffy's hair.

They smiled at each other, feeling more relaxed.

Slowly, Faith drew Buffy down for another kiss. Buffy didn't resist and Faith kept it as light and friendly… well, friendly wasn't really the right word; within seconds it was just plain hot again.

As Buffy pushed her tongue into Faith's mouth, the brunette did her best not to groan out loud, but when Buffy rolled onto her, one leg accidentally coming to rest between hers, Faith couldn't keep the noise behind her open lips. Buffy swallowed the aroused reverberation, feeling it fan her own excitement, and ignored the voice telling her it was a warning. She didn't want to keep pulling away.

Faith, spurred on by this, dragged her hand down the back of Buffy's night shirt until it landed on a loosely flannel covered ass. Much to her delight, even this didn't stop Buffy, but, apparently, the squeezing was touch too far.

"Okay," Buffy pulled back quickly, smiling and breathing heavy, but no longer within tongue range. "I think that concludes our kissage of this evening."

"You sure?" Faith asked hopefully.

"Totally." Buffy grinned. Losing her grin, she added, "Besides I have to be up at six to go to Columbus with Willow and Oz."

"Regretting offering to play chaperone?"

"Nope, just regretting I agreed to leave so early," Buffy chuckled, sitting up.

Faith sat up too. "Okay, I guess I better let you get your beauty sleep." Smiling at Buffy's pout, she checked. "S'only a day trip though, right? You'll be back tomorrow night?"

"Uh huh. My one official night off of the year? I'm not gonna miss that." Buffy promised. "I plan on sitting my butt in front of the Great Pumpkin and eating all the candy Giles is gonna buy."

"Giles buys candy?"

"Big bowl every year," Buffy nodded.

Faith nodded approvingly as she leaned in to give Buffy one last quick kiss. Scooting to the edge of the bed and standing up, she said, "Sweet, it's a date then."

Buffy made a soft 'hah' sound of amusement, "A date sounds nice."

Faith nodded as she backed towards the door, not willing to let Buffy out of sight until she had to close it behind her. "Night, babe."

"Sweet dreams," Buffy smiled, her eyes never leaving Faith's either.

They had the usual moment, where Faith had the door open but hadn't quite gone through it yet because Buffy's eyes were holding her in place, it would last a few moments and then Buffy's smile would turn to a grin and just before she could remind Faith what a door was actually for, Faith remembered for herself.

Shooting Buffy one last wink, Faith closed the door and was hit by a bolt of inspiration. She stopped dead on the landing as an imaginary light bulb flashed above her head a few times. Oh yeah, now there was a million watt idea – stupid it hadn't come to her before.

With a devilish grin, she went to her room.

* * *

Owen took a step back from his reflection in the antique mirror, grabbing the lapels of his velvet robe self-importantly and smiling at himself. 

"Why hello, old chap. Has it really been a year?" Raising a thick white eyebrow, he patted his tummy judgmentally. "Evidentially. Another year, another inch. Just as well they make these garments so generous."

Smiling again, he pinched the material at his shoulders, giving it a little shake to straighten out the creases in the deep hood.

The robe was made of thick blue velvet, the exact shade of the sky an hour before sunrise on the day of the summer solstice… as seen from a certain hill in Somerset. It was magnificent and very well-preserved.

Far better preserved than he, at any rate.

His hair was as thick and lustrous as it had been in his youth, but it was just so short these days. It should be long, reaching to his shoulders at least, and slightly curly – although he had to admit, the pure white of it was an improvement on the blonde locks he'd suffered with most of his life.

He rubbed his smooth chin with an elderly hand and sighed deeply – that wasn't right either. Especially for tomorrow night. His outfit really did look unfinished without a long, wispy white beard. Still, it was too late to grow one now.

His fingers ran down the velvet robe all the way to the cord belt, which he tightened a little before turning one way and then the other to check himself out from all sides. His nose wrinkled at the smell of mothballs wafting up, but at least they'd done their job. The robe's condition was as pristine as the day he'd received it.

He looked good; and although his years had instilled a modesty he'd never had when he was young, he couldn't help feeling he'd be the best dressed man at the party.

There were still two things missing however.

The non-descript loafers he wore to work made tiny taps as Owen crossed the black and white tiles of the large reception room.

He opened some finely painted wooden doors and peered into the coat closet. The soft blaze of light from the chandelier didn't penetrate far into the gloom of the cupboard, but he knew which hook to reach for by instinct – the one right at the very back – and carefully he removed his hat.

It was big, or tall, or maybe both. The brim was wide, and flopped in wet weather, and the point was high. A dent in one side caused the point to stick out oddly, but a flick of his finger against the stiff blue material popped it back into form. He should keep it in a hat box really, but they didn't make hat boxes this shape.

Closing the cupboards doors, he carried the hat back to the mirror and set it carefully on his head. He had to adjust its angle a few times, and run his fingers around the brim to uncurl it, but soon it was looking as good as new.

He nodded to himself in the mirror and then walked through to the elaborate rococo-style drawing room.

He'd set a big fire burning in here when he'd returned from work and now – with the robes and the hat on – it felt far too warm. He pulled at the gathered cloth beneath his chin as he retrieved his boots from in front of the iron grate.

Perhaps he would go without the roaring fire tomorrow. If it felt hot to him now, it would be unbearable with so many more bodies in here for the party, and some of his guests – Ptah, for example – would be wearing even more layers than he.

Owen perched on the edge of his chaise-lounge, kicked off his loafers and pulled the bottom of his robe up over his increasingly knobbly knees so that he could see his feet. The boots – black, with hobnailed soles, but pleasingly velvet all the way up to his calf – felt strange and a little tight after the comfortable modern shoes. He wiggled his feet, getting used to them again, as he fiddled with the curly toes.

Back out into the grand reception hall, Owen walked with a dignified, confident stride.

By the heavy oak front door was a stand designed to look like a long brass snake balancing on the tip of its tail, winding its way around the long length of time-polished wood it held. Owen pulled the staff out of the stand and its thud on the tiles accompanied his every second step as he walked back to the mirror.

Robe, hat, shoes and staff, Owen smiled at his reflection in the mirror. As the _much_ younger generation would say: he was ready to party.

_Tbc..._

_So, there's the beginning. I hope you enjoyed it and it teased you sufficiently. Feedback/concrit is always welcome. I'll be back with the first part of act 1 shortly - well not that shortly, give me a week or two ;)_


	2. Act 1:1

Big thanks to the people who left reviews for the teaser, it's always nice to know people are enjoying this series. I'm going to devide act 1 into three parts so that I can keep updating and writing regularly. So the next installment of act1 will be up in the next 10 days, I (tentatively) promise. Any and all feedback is welcome.

* * *

It was early in the morning, a lot earlier than Faith generally wanted to be up now she didn't have alarms going off and guards barging into her room without permission. It was so early the outside was in that in-between stage – not still dark, still not light.

It was a stupid time to be up, but Faith was wide awake, the size of her eyes proof enough. She was showered and dressed already and Xander was going to have a heart attack when she turned up for work without him having to yell at her a half dozen times first.

Not that work was first on her agenda. She had something more important to do first. Something that had seemed a lot easier when she first thought of it the night before.

She was standing in her bedroom – which still smelled of Willow's candles and Kennedy's muscle rub – staring hard into her mirror. One hand was either side of it, palms flat on the wall, her face just inches from her reflection. She used to do this in prison a lot, when she had to calm herself down or give herself a talking to. It worked… sometimes, and the familiarity was helping her some – God knew, nothing else about living here was familiar to her.

"You can do this," she was muttering to herself, low enough so that no one walking by would hear. "You can do this. It's not that damn hard. Everyone else in the freakin' world has done this a thousand times, so there's no reason I can't – and do it a damn sight better for sure."

She let go of the wall and straightened her back, but didn't take her eyes from her own.

"All I gotta do is go out there and ask. Just ask, simple right? Not like she's gonna say no."

Faith ran a shaky hand down her face, closing her eyes briefly. What if she did say no? What if she really did just wanna park her ass in front of the TV? She was gonna have a wicked long day as it was, maybe the thought of adding to it was the last thing she wanted.

"Maybe I should just wait until _she_ mentions it," Faith thought aloud, dropping her self-staring match to examine her thumb nail. "After all, nothing in the rule book says I gotta be the one to make the first move."

Faith gave herself a little shake, frowning at the mirror.

She was trying to talk herself out of it, and why? Because she was scared of a little rejection? Please? If she wasn't used to that by now, what the hell was she used to? And she knew exactly why she had to make the first move, because Buffy was waiting for it. She'd dropped her hint the night before, and Faith had already lost points for not doing it before hints were dropped. The best thing she could do here was prove she'd caught it right away, because Buffy probably wasn't expecting that. So in a way, it was almost like she'd had the idea herself.

Deciding to quit her overanalysing while she was ahead, Faith took a deep breath and went looking for the blonde Slayer.

* * *

The alarm clock was blaring again and Kennedy couldn't ignore it any more, as much as she'd like to. Willow had already hit snooze three times in her sleep.

The Slayer sat up groggily, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. "Willow."

She mumbled something in her sleep and rolled Kennedy's way before snuggling her cheek back into her pillow.

"Will." Kennedy tried again, leaning over her girlfriend to smack the alarm on its head.

Blissful silence returned to the dark bedroom and Kennedy fought the urge to lie back down and sleep. The digital display on the clock already read 5:30, but that wasn't really her problem. She hadn't agreed to go on a day trip with her ex at stupid o clock in the morning. Maybe if she let Willow oversleep, Buffy and Osborne would have to go without her.

But then Willow would wake and be upset, not necessarily with her, but just in general, and Kennedy didn't want to be the cause of that.

Willow was really excited about this werewolf outreach program thing, over the moon at being able to participate in Council work that had nothing to do with magic for once.

Kennedy knew the witch was still reeling inside from the magical use and abuse of a couple of weeks ago; not wanting to do anything related just now except the control exercises Althenea was emailing to her.

Kennedy sighed deeply; she just didn't understand why Willow had to choose a project with her former boyfriend to be her extra-curricular activity.

"Willow!" She poked the woman in her shoulder, Slayer-hard.

"Ow, I'm up, I'm up!" Willow sat up instantly, her eyes still closed as she swayed back and forth a little. "Is it demons?"

Kennedy chuckled at Willow's sleepy reaction, but it died all too quickly.

"Actually, yeah. You're ex will be by to pick you up in…" Kennedy looked at the clock again. "Less than twenty minutes."

"Huh?" Willow yawned comfortably, but then her eyes shot open. "Oh shoot, I overslept?" She jumped out of the bed.

"Just a little. No need to panic; I'm pretty sure he'll wait for you."

'_I'm pretty sure he's only going because of you,'_ she added in her head as she watched Willow race around the room grabbing clothes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so abrupt," Willow apologised as she pulled a pair of red cords from a drawer. "Please don't think snuggle time is being neglected easily here. It's just we have to be on the road just after six if we want to meet the woman this morning. She's going away this afternoon."

Kennedy had to smile at that, although it was a sad smile. The two of them hadn't had snuggle time in over two weeks now. "I know, its okay, go."

Willow gave her a grateful smile – making Kennedy's generosity feel almost worth it – and came over to give her a kiss goodbye. "I'll miss you."

"You're only going for a day, Will," Kennedy reminded her with a brighter smile. "But, just so you know, I'll miss you too."

"Really?" Willow bent down to grope for her shoes under the bed, but she kept her eyes above the edge so she could still see Kennedy.

"Yes."

Willow jumped up to give her one last kiss.

"Hey, I got you these last night." Kennedy threw Willow a big bag of Milk duds from the cinema. "Take them as travel snacks."

"Oh!" Willow beamed. "That's so sweet, thank you."

"You welcome." She watched Willow walk to the door.

On the threshold Willow looked back at her, she was still smiling, but her eyes were serious. "And just a thought, Sweetie, but if you stop referring to Oz as my 'Ex' all the time, you might get over it quicker."

Willow delivered the blow and then she was gone before Kennedy could offer a come back. Not that she knew what she'd say. Shaking her head irritably she flopped back down on the bed, hoping to go back to sleep

* * *

Buffy was asleep at the kitchen table with a miraculously unspilled mug of coffee held between the palms of her hands and her breasts.

Xander smiled at the sight as he came down the back stairs in search of breakfast. He'd gotten used to being up this early during his one-man-construction-crew-nervous-breakdown stage and it hadn't quite worn off yet now he had help. Buffy, though, wasn't usually up until well after the sun had started its day.

"Buffy?" he said her name gently as he leaned over the table towards her. "Buff, if cups were teddy-bears they'd be fluffier… plus they'd have, like, ears and stuff."

She took a deep breath through her nose as her eyes flickered open; her exhale came out as "Hmmm?"

"If cups were… never mind." By the looks of her doziness, it would be a while before she was ready for his high quality _wi-partee. _No point wasting the material. "You're gonna get coffee on your shirt if you're not careful."

"What?" Yawning she lifted a hand to rub her eye and dislodged the cup from its heavenly resting place. "Oops."

She caught it in time, but checked for spillages all the same. Chuckling, Xander went to the cupboard and started shaking cereal boxes to check their quantities.

"Does something not look right to you?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know," she mumbled through another yawn. "Something just doesn't look right."

Xander gave the kitchen a cursory look as he went for a spoon, before turning to Buffy for a clue. She was still inspecting her chest.

"I'm not gonna comment," he decided was the safest thing to say. He may have been an expert on the chest-ular area Buffy was sleepily glaring at, but he'd learnt years ago that his seminars on the subject weren't welcome. "So, what time's Oz swinging by?"

Buffy stretched as she looked up at the kitchen clock. "Another twenty minutes; but I don't mind if he wants to be tardy."

Pushing the mug away from her, she crossed her arms on the table top and settled her head on them.

Xander sat down opposite with his bowl of Honey Loops. "So are you ready for today?"

"What's to be ready for? This is Willow and Oz's thing. I'm just going to make sure their thing stays this thing and doesn't become another thing endangering Oz's thing to Kennedy's hunting knife."

"I didn't know the original crossbow queen even had a hunting knife."

"She's going to buy one especially." Buffy smiled at Xander's quiet laughter. "But I don't think she'll need to bother. Even if I wasn't going. Nothing's going on there. Will swears blind the kiss was tied into the spell-thing and I can't see Oz wanting to rekindle things after all this time…"

"He does."

"What does he?"

Xander finished another mouthful of cereal before he clarified. "Oz, not so much with the platonic feelings for our Will."

Buffy mused on that for a second, "Nu-uh, I think you're barking up the wrong tree there, Xan. If Oz were interested, I think there would have been a sign by now, don't you? Maybe a very stoic sign, but still something in the signage family."

"Like him telling me, you mean?" Xander slurped some milk from his spoon. "Not particularly stoic, but still pretty signy."

Buffy sat up again, blinking at him. "He told you?"

Xander nodded. Buffy's face fell as she digested that. When it had fully sunk in, she looked annoyed.

"Well, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because for one: we're not in high school anymore. Meaning, I can keep a secret without feeling guilty about it. And for two: we're not in high school anymore. Meaning, I was really hoping not to be a part of another Willow and Oz love triangle. Not even indirectly."

"But, Xander, if Oz really does want… what you say he said," Buffy whispered, casting an eye to the stairs to make sure they were alone. "That is so far from good, its not even funny bad."

"I agree, but that still doesn't make me wanna get involved." Xander finished his cereal and got up to make some fresh coffee. "Besides, I wouldn't know what side to get involved on. I think Kennedy's cool, really, but… I also think Oz is cool, and anyway, how many lesbians do we really need in the family? We're already over our sitcom quota now Faith's back."

Buffy looked at him sharply, "You have a problem with lesbians now, Mister I-kissed-lots-of-guys-just-a-couple-of-weeks-ago?"

"It was only two guys!" Xander felt himself blush at the reminder. "And, for the record, I'm all over the lesbian commune aspect of our new life." He gave her a hyena grin but it dropped as he added, "But I think maybe I'm feeling a little left-over high school guilt."

"Say again?"

"The aforementioned love triangle. I'm rooting for Oz because maybe if I hadn't kissed Willow one time…"

"One time?"

"One time we got caught," Xander mumbled as he dumped coffee grounds into the filter. "Oz wouldn't have got frisky with the sexy werewolf and maybe they wouldn't have split up in the first place, and then Willow never would have been available to hook up with Tara, she wouldn't have discovered her Sapphic-ness and Kennedy wouldn't now be in the picture, meaning this situation wouldn't be happening. It's all my fault!"

Both of Buffy's eyebrows lifted, "You really believe all that?"

"I don't know." Xander fetched the milk while he waited for the coffee to percolate. "It's kinda hard to imagine a past that doesn't have Tara in it."

Buffy nodded, "And it's kinda hard to imagine a present that doesn't have Kennedy in it."

It was Xander's turn to nod, "And yet, Oz is our friend too. So you see why I'm determined to stay out of it?"

"Yep, you've made a good argument for staying uninvolved. I think I'll copy you."

"Except I get the feeling Oz might have been waiting for a nice away day to make his move, and guess who's designated chaperone?"

"Crap." Buffy groaned, letting her head fall back to her arms.

"What's up?" Faith asked, as she breezed into the kitchen through the swing door.

"Well you for one," Xander looked at her in surprise. Did the clocks go back without him realising? Faith was usually up after Buffy, despite having to start work at 8am. And that had been heavily negotiated down from 7am. "Did someone set fire to your bed or something?"

"Well, if they did, I'd know how to fix it now, right?" She gave him a strange, nervous grin. She nodded at the glass coffee pot he'd just picked up. "Black, three sugars."

"Well, you'd know how to paint the room," he conceded. "And I think I know how you like you're coffee by now. You've had me acting like your tea-boy for a week and a half!"

"You have to put your Boss-like foot down, Xan," Buffy grinned. Her head had shot back up the moment she'd heard Faith's voice. "Don't give her an inch or she'll take the whole nine yards."

"You all love it," Faith said as she leaned down to give Buffy a chaste good-morning kiss.

Xander watched the two of them greet each other as he set three mugs of coffee on the table, and knew he'd never get tired of his all-time favourite fantasy coming true.

"So what's crap?" Faith asked, taking a seat next to Buffy.

"Oh, uh, nothing much," Buffy hedged. "Just, um, stuff."

Xander saw Faith's face drop at the apparent rebuff.

She looked down into the blackness of her coffee. "Okay, that's cool."

"It's nothing, honestly," Buffy added. "We were just talking about…"

"High School," Xander filled in for her. "Just stupid school crap that we, even in our mature years, can't seem to get over. No big."

"Okay," Faith said again. She didn't look any more relaxed, but she did smile. "Shoulda done what I did. Dropping out at sixteen cuts all that crap dead." Her smile dropped again. "At least until ya hit twenty-one and have Parole hounding your ass to get your GED."

Buffy pressed her hand over Faith's. "You're gonna ace it."

"Yeah, maybe," Faith shrugged. Looking even more tense than before, she rushed out, "So B, there was kinda something I was wanting to ask you? Are you busy tonight?"

Buffy looked surprised. "I thought we covered this already. You, me, Charlie Brown and a big bowl of candy."

"It's just I was kinda thinking we could do something."

"Well, we will be, with the sitting and the watching and the pigging out."

Xander watched in amusement as Faith gave a quick, impatient sigh.

"What if we did something other than sit in front of the tube all night?"

Buffy shot an embarrassed glance at Xander before whispering, "Faith, you know my answer to that already. Not yet, okay. Now can you please just drop it for, I don't know, a day at least?"

"Jeez, B, I can think of something else occasionally, ya know?" Shaking her head in annoyance, Faith pulled her hand away from Buffy's.

"You can?" Xander grinned.

"Hey, private conversation, Bucko! So if ya gonna watch me crash and burn at least have the decency to do it quietly."

Xander made a zipping his lips motion and turned eagerly towards Buffy for her response.

"Why, if that isn't the question, will there be crashing and burning?"

"Hell, I don't know, Buffy. Maybe because if you don't wise up in the next minute I'm gonna deliberately fly into the side of a mountain. Or maybe because obviously this was a really bad idea, or else you woulda cottoned on by now, and I'm flying in circles not knowing what the hell to do n…"

Buffy raised her hands, cutting Faith off. "Okay, this here," she waved her hands around herself. "Is a no fly zone, okay, 'cause you're making me really dizzy with all the me not understanding a thing you're talking about."

Faith slumped and blew out a noisy breath. She rolled her eyes to Xander.

He grinned, "I know what you're thinking. How can someone usually so quick suddenly become so slow? We think it's a condition of some kind."

"Are you talking about me?" The blonde's eyes narrowed.

"If it's any consolation, the density of the Buff generally relates to how into someone she is," Xander continued.

"What are you talking about?" Buffy demanded, her tiredness making her irritable.

"B, I'm trying to ask you on a freakin' date. Tonight. Now do you wanna go or not?"

"Oh." Buffy just blinked at her.

"B!" Faith said exasperated. Xander laughed.

"Oh, sorry. Yes. Yes, I'd love to go on a date with you tonight." Buffy beamed, grabbing her hand again. "Why didn't you just say so?"

Faith shook her head again with a little relieved smile. Buffy grinned at her, obviously happy with this turn of events.

Xander felt a little more of his Faith-hate slip away.

She'd been chipping away at his resistance to liking her ever since she'd been back. It was kinda hard not to be drawn to her when she was one of the good guys. He still had a few deep-seated issues that he was clinging to, but, seeing how she could make Buffy's face light up like that, it was getting easier to let the small stuff go.

"So where are we going?" Buffy asked, all excited.

"I don't, uh, know yet." Faith frowned. "I mean, I haven't finalised anything; still got a few ideas I'm kicking around to see which bounces best, ya know? Wanna surprise you."

"Okay. Well, I'm sure whatever your final decision is, it'll be awesome."

"Yeah, for sure; you know me, B. Do I ever do anything less than awesome?" Faith stood up, seeming as tense again as she had five minutes ago. "Anyway, I gotta go finish tiling a shower block, so I'll see you later, yeah, when you get back from Columbus."

"I can't wait," Buffy promised her, tilting her head back for a goodbye kiss.

"Yeah, it's gonna be great," Faith muttered, leaning down to give her a quick peck on the lips. As she was heading for the back door, she threw over her shoulder, "By the way, babe, your top's on inside out."

Xander started laughing as Buffy looked down at her chest again, exclaiming, "I knew something didn't look right!"

_Tbc..._


	3. Act 1:2

Sorry guys, I know I said 10 days and its been like 2 weeks instead. It's been done, but with the crazy easter weekend I didn't get time to go through it until now.

Big, big thank you's to everyone who reviewed, one day I'll get around to doing them individually, until then just know that I love you all :)

* * *

Twenty minutes later Buffy had dressed herself properly and was waiting outside with Oz. She was feeling more awake now as she rested her arms on the open passenger window of his van, making small talk about the day ahead.

She wanted to say something to him about Xander's little bombshell, while they waited for Willow to finish getting ready and join them, but she hadn't come up with a good reason for sticking her nose in yet. She liked Kennedy – a fact that still surprised her – but if Willow chose to go the other way, well, Buffy would support her wholeheartedly, because that was what best friends did.

She really needed to speak with Willow about it, not Oz, who wouldn't tell her anything he didn't want to and so was hardly a credible informant. Not that she hadn't already talked to Willow about this many times – many, many times – in the past two weeks, but maybe she wasn't being entirely honest; or maybe she was just subconsciously crushing on Oz again and that was what all these little wolf missions to various parts of the State were about.

It was a bit suspicious, how Willow kept complaining that Kennedy was being awkward and distant, but at the same time was spending a good number of days a week with her ex-boyfriend. Whether there was anything going on or not, Buffy knew she'd be jealous in Kennedy's situation.

Willow was her best friend, though, and so got all the benefits that came with. A sympathetic ear to barrage with complaints; a chaperone so she could have her frosty cake and eat her ex… well, not eat, because that was kinda the point of her chaperoning in the first place. Willow got burgers at The Mouth to get away from Kennedy's silence at the dinner table and cocoa in Buffy's room at night to put off going to her own tension-filled room.

On top of all that, Buffy was running with Kennedy in the morning, letting her pound her in sparring matches in the afternoons and then taking over her patrolling so that Kennedy could go out every evening.

Truthfully, Buffy would much rather be spending all that time with Faith, but with Faith so busy all the time too… Buffy just bit her tongue and did it all with a smile on her face.

Maybe it was cosmic payback for their first couple of months here, when Buffy's pity-fest had been a drain on Willow's time and Kennedy's patience. She'd left the slaying completely to the younger, inexperienced slayer, not to mention training up the even newer newbies.

Actually, maybe the cosmos had nothing to do with it and this was just Will and Ken's payback.

"So, we'll be back between five and six," Oz was saying. "If the traffic's okay."

"That late," Buffy whined. "I thought this was a morning meeting."

"It is, but Willow's arranged to see a guy she met online in Wooster after."

"See, this is why I say the internet is bad," Buffy groaned. "You start off in some harmless chat room for the K.D Lang-obsessed and the next thing you know you're off to Wooster to meet strange men."

Oz cracked a smile, "It's a Wicca thing. This guy is like a major mogul. It's big that Willow's getting to meet with him."

"Okay, I suppose a day-trip isn't really a day-trip if it doesn't last the whole day, right?" Buffy shrugged. She just hoped whatever Faith arranged for their date wouldn't start too early. She added nonchalantly, "But if it's such a big thing, how come Kennedy isn't going with Will?"

"I don't know," Oz met her gaze, unblinking, unbothered. "Maybe she isn't that interested in Wicca."

Buffy accepted that with a nod as Willow came flying out of the back door, running towards the van as she pulled her coat on. "Sorry, overslept! If Kennedy hadn't woken me I'd still be in snoozeville. I haven't made us too late, have I?"

"No, we have time," Oz smiled.

Buffy greeted her friend with a grin as she pulled the passenger door open.

"Morning, Buffy," Willow grinned back, ready to climb in and slide along the bench seat.

"Oh, wait, Will." Buffy pulled her back out gently by the hood of her coat. "I should probably sit in the middle, you know how car sick I get if I have to be by the window."

"You do?" Willow frowned, but moved out of the way to let Buffy get in first.

"Oh yeah, all the time," Buffy lied.

Climbing in next to Oz, she gave him a bright smile. He returned a mellower version, but didn't seem put out by the new seating arrangement.

As Willow slammed her door and Oz started to drive, Buffy took a deep breath, thinking, _'Please be wrong, Xander!'_

* * *

Dawn opened her locker, and then jumped slightly as Fen bounced her shoulder loudly against the one next to it.

"Happy Halloween." Fen gave her a wicked smile as she chewed her gum. "Looking forward to tonight?"

"Oh my God, you have no idea how much!" Dawn promised, pulling out her books. "My last couple of Halloween's have kind of blowed; and I've never been allowed to an actual party before."

"But your Sister knows you're going tonight, yeah? Not that I'm trying to discourage you from breaking the rules or anything," Fen winked. "But you would lose so many cool points if she comes and drags you out."

"She was dubious," Dawn admitted. "But she's been a lot less controlling since Faith turned up. Typical Buffy, she starts having sex and I drop way down the list of her priorities. Plus, when she heard the Sl…girls were coming with me, she kind of figured I couldn't get into too much trouble."

Fen didn't notice her slip, or found it uninteresting enough to ignore. "Sweet. So how many are coming? I know some of the boys have been _dying_ to meet your delinquent chicks."

"They're not delinquents!" Dawn chucked. "And I'm not sure. Miranda, Cici and Alison already said yes. I know Vi has to, uh, study tonight, and Rona said she'd let me know later. Ooh, Andrew and Craig are coming, so Nai might tag along, but I haven't asked her yet. And, of course, Reece is coming with me," Dawn smiled.

"Of course," Fen grinned.

Dawn slammed her locker shut and the two girls headed to Homeroom. "Uh, Buffy did want to know where it was going to be, though."

Fen looked alarmed. "You didn't tell her did you?"

"Well, seeing as I don't even know where it's going to be, I couldn't. So I just made up a guy and said it was at his house. I've been making up random facts about him all week to drop into conversation, just so she wouldn't get suspicious."

Fen laughed, "I knew there was a reason why you're my best friend."

"I'm your best friend?" The news surprised Dawn because, well, Fen was so cool, and popular, and rich – three things Dawn most definitely wasn't.

"Sure," Fen linked her arm through Dawn's and they squeezed through the classroom door together. "I'm not gonna settle for less than the smartest chick in school, am I?"

Dawn blushed as she sat at her desk and whispered, "So where is the party?"

Fen did a couple of eyebrow lifts as she grinned. "It's awesome. I'm going to check it out with a couple of the guys this afternoon. You wanna come?"

Dawn nodded, excited.

* * *

_Is an increase in unsightly body hair getting you down?_

_Do you suffer from monthly bouts of amnesia? _

_Do you like your steaks rare; your eggs with a complimentary chicken attached?_

_Do you ever get so wild you just want to howl at the moon?_

_If you think you are suffering from any of the above it's possible you have a rare lunar-related condition known as Lycanthropy._

_Call or email today for a free consultation._

Buffy read the printed words on the little white business card again, a slight smirk tugging up one side of her lips. Who in their right mind would respond to something like this?

Apparently, the smart, sexy-looking navy-blue tailor-suited woman currently sitting in a very expensive office behind a very important looking desk would. Whether she was in her right mind was still on the cards and what Willow and Oz – sat on the opposite side of the desk – were trying to find out.

Buffy was staying in the background, checking out the titles on a few of the zillion smartly-bound books on the shelves – she didn't understand any of them – and the framed diplomas and certificates on the walls. The woman had more letters _after_ her name than _in_ her name.

Apparently the woman was a psychologist. Had they been lured here under false pretences? Maybe the woman didn't even think she was a werewolf, she'd just seen the ad and saw her chance to get a bunch of crazies off the street. She probably wanted a shot at analysing the kind of weirdo that really believed in werewolves – this could be a big career break for her.

Buffy didn't know how to take psychologists. One the one hand, she could probably benefit from several…hundred… hours of therapy herself, but on the other, there was the bad taste in her memory of Maggie Walsh, her Psych professor back in college. The woman who had truly put the psycho into psychology.

That whole affair had put her off more than a little, but was it fair to assume all psychologists wanted to play mommy to a modern day Frankenstein's monster? They couldn't all be evil; probably some of them were even mostly normal.

Therapy though?

Someone whose sole mission one hour a week was to listen to you talk about _you! _Someone who wasn't allowed to get bored and turn the TV on halfway through your heartfelt rant. Someone to unload all the crap of your day onto so you could go about your business crap-free.

It sounded awesome if you put it like that.

Joking aside though, there was the talking to a complete stranger about the stuff on your mind, and not just the annoying stuff, but the big stuff too. And there was the poking and probing into the dark places you'd really prefer to keep everyone else out of. And there was the chance that they might realise you actually were complete and totally batshit crazy and section you under the mental health act of whenever whenever…

Faith had to go and see a psychologist soon.

Deb Devenrowe was setting it up. She said it was standard procedure. Buffy wasn't sure if she believed her, but then how many parolees did she actually know? Deb Devenrowe had also said that it was Faith's decision, but she highly recommended it.

Faith had agreed more readily than Buffy would have imagined.

More readily than Buffy had when Deb Devenrowe had suggested that her presence would probably be beneficial at some point in the future. Faith had looked at her, one eyebrow raised; leaving the decision to her, but it had been obvious Faith was hoping she'd say yes.

And so Buffy had. And now she was crapping it, and Deb Devenrowe hadn't even found anyone yet. Apparently, after a conversation with Giles, she agreed that – providing he paid for it – someone outside the parole system would probably be a good idea. Buffy had a feeling it was going to be a Council Psychiatrist they brought in, but no amount of bugging Giles was getting her the info.

This session – when it happened – wasn't going to be all laying on a comfy leather couch and talking about her dreams. And it wasn't going to be lying on an uncomfy tomb and talking about her daddy issues either. Or maybe it would be, but the dreams would be of the stalking Faith through a graveyard before stabbing her to death kind, not of the waking up naked with a zebra in front of her Math class kind. And if she did have to talk about all the ways she felt her dad had screwed her over, she couldn't have the satisfaction of dusting her counsellor afterwards.

Buffy wasn't stupid, she knew there were things – dark, horrible things – in her and Faith's past that they were going to have to deal with. Stuff, that if it stayed buried, would rise up at a later date and be as dangerous to their relationship as a vampire would be to their lives – more dangerous in fact. In truth, there was so much badness in their history that it was crazy to fall in love with Faith…

But it had happened, and now Buffy just wanted to bury her head and enjoy it. Why pick at scabs that might just get infected and slowly poison that love? Why couldn't they at least leave the picking until they were more solid, more sure of their new role in each others lives?

_For the same reason I can't sleep with her yet_, Buffy answered herself. _For the same reason Faith found the streets a better place to be than with me for a week._

Buffy looked up as Willow left the desk and joined her by a large inset aquarium. Some tropical fish were doing what they do best inside.

Buffy, head on one side as she watched, wondered, "How do you suppose they get the fish in and out?"

Willow pondered briefly and shrugged, "Maybe there's a secret tunnel in the wall."

Buffy accepted that as a plausible theory and nodded her head in the direction of desk. "So kook or wolf?"

"Definitely wolf," Willow grinned, "Which is a relief, because the last three people we met with were definitely all kook."

"Probably not much relief for her."

Willow's grin dropped to a sheepish smile, "Probably not, but, hey, at least she knows what's going on now. Way better than just waking up naked on a sports field and not knowing why. Oz is just doing his 'This isn't the end of the world, it can actually enhance your life' bit." Her grin came back tenfold, "He's really good at it."

_Uh oh_, thought Buffy, but decided not to mention it.

"Well, I'm not surprised you're getting a high number of cranks." She handed the business card back to Willow. "Isn't it a bit risky putting the word _lycanthropy_ in there?"

"A little," Willow admitted. "But I spoke with Giles about the wording and we agreed that anyone who knew what the word meant, but didn't have any of the symptoms we mentioned, would just take it as a joke, just another screwball on the Net. And those that do have the symptoms wouldn't be quite so freaked by the word lycanthropy as they would by the word _Werewolf_."

"Okay, but what about the so-called experts, like the Government or that hunter-guy that came to Sunnydale after Oz?"

"Oh, well, for those types…" Willow lowered her voice even further. "The email account is brand new, set up under a false name at an internet café in Cleveland. The phone number is for our monster hotline…"

"Monster hotline?" Buffy smirked. "I didn't know we had a monster hotline."

Willow grinned, "I ran a secure line into Giles' office, no one can tap it or trace it, and it they try I'll know about it. It's the big old fashioned black phone on his desk. Xander and I wanted him to get a bright red one, you know, like Danger Mouse, but he chose to go another way."

"Right."

"It's as safe as it can be, which still isn't as safe as Giles would like, but this is an important project, Buffy. It's worth a little risk."

Educating Werewolves and keeping them off the streets at night _was_ a very good project. Also, a Slayer without a tranquilliser gun was pretty much a dead Slayer when it came to the single-minded kinda supernatural; and according to Giles, and the coven in England, there was still hundreds of Slayers out there that hadn't been found yet.

She didn't know if Werewolves were drawn to Slayer meat in the same way a Vampire was drawn to Slayer blood. She couldn't remember Oz ever showing any special interest in her when he was wolfisized. In fact he'd always seemed to make a beeline for Willow's throat.

Damn demonic creatures and their desire to turn/kill/torture their mates!

In their silence, both women had tuned into the conversation at the desk.

"I have a fiancé. Does he have to know?" The woman still sounded all business.

"He might wonder where you are three nights of the month if you don't tell him." Oz replied in his usual one-tone-fits-all voice.

Buffy watched the woman nod slowly and make a note on the pad in front of her. Was she planning on Memo-ing her fiancé about it, or was she making notes on Oz. The thought of Oz visiting a therapist was funny; the shrink would probably find herself being shrunk.

"We were planning to start a family in a year or two. Will that still be possible?" The woman sounded like she was asking about the possibility of a vacation.

Hopefully Faith would end up with a therapist a little more human.

"Yes. The conversion doesn't damage your human physiology at all, except for the three nights a month you're a wolf obviously," Oz told her.

_Just don't screw your honey when you're wolf-shaped,_ Buffy thought as Oz went into a slightly more lengthy answer about her reproductive paraphernalia. _Or you might find yourself with a litter. _

Willow changed the subject. "So where is Faith taking you on the big date tonight?"

"Oh, I…" Buffy hesitated as a big smile took over her face. "… Have absolutely no idea. I was kinda in shock when she asked and she was all cagey with the details."

"Was she all sweet and shy?" Willow asked, grinning along. "Or all smooth and confident?"

"Actually, she was giving off more of an edgy, detached vibe," Buffy admitted with a small shrug.

"Oh," Willow looked surprised. "You don't think she was nervous, do you? I mean, why would Faith be nervous? She's been with millions of peop…" Willow saw Buffy frown. "Well, not literally millions… probably. Uh, my point is… what was my point? Oh yeah, she doesn't come across as the type who wastes time on dating angst."

"If the dental-extraction look wasn't down to nerves then that doesn't forebode good things for me." Buffy pointed out. "Plus, as far as we know, she's never experienced the angst of dating before. Faith never did dating back in Sunnydale, remember? Xander can testify to that."

Willow looked down at the luxurious deep red carpet, a twinkle in her eye. "And me."

"What?" Buffy fired the word out loud enough that Oz and Wolf-woman stopped their meeting and looked over.

"Just kidding," Willow looked up again with a big grin on her face. Buffy's eyes narrowed and Willow hurried on. "So, the nerves thing probably explains it then. Case closed. Although, I still don't get why, it's not like you two aren't together now. You weren't going to say no."

"Well, no, I wasn't going to say no," Buffy's eyes followed an electric blue fish as it darted around the tank. "But we're not really, as in totally, one hundred percent together… yet. We're kinda still in pre-togetherness time."

"Oh," Willow said again, looking confused. "But there are smoochies… actually there aren't… I mean, there are, but not as many as I expected. Whenever I pictured you and Faith together it was always big with the indecent displays of affection."

"Pictured?" Buffy raised an eyebrow.

"Not pictured! I mean, when I imagined, in a totally abstract way with absolutely no pictures of any kind at all!" Willow rushed out, but couldn't help the evil little smile at the end. She seemed extra extra chipper today.

Buffy smiled too, sighing, "Well, there will be, I expect, one day, but right now we're keeping it, or I'm keeping it, to polite, kid-safe kisses… most of the time anyway. I have a tendency to forget my good intentions when she comes to say goodnight."

Buffy blushed slightly and pressed her forehead lightly against the fish tank as she remembered going pantiless the night before. It hadn't been completely deliberate. She really had been planning on keeping Faith out of her room, but she should have known she wouldn't stick to it. Teasing Faith like that though was probably a bad idea, especially with all the stress the other Slayer was already under, but Buffy was finding she kinda enjoyed teasing herself.

"But why does being with Faith fall into the bad intention category anyway?"

That was a good question, and it had a good answer, usually. "Well, there are issues." Was all she could come up with right now.

Willow nodded, "Your issues kinda have issues."

"Exactly."

"Your last boyfriend was a violent, blood-thirsty fiend!"

"Meaning?"

"Not like you haven't dealt with this stuff before," Willow gave a little shrug. "And at least Faith doesn't literally get thirsty for blood, so there's one less issue right there."

"As much as I'd like to refute your wacky logic, I find myself Willow-stumped. But…" Buffy sighed deeply, "Spike would have brought me flowers – okay, so they'd be stolen – but, he'd have written me poetry and… and serenaded me under street lights and stuff."

"Spike?" Willow frowned, "I think you're romanticizing your ex-cold blooded killer. And… and that's not really fair on your current cold blooded killer, is it?"

"Will!" Buffy gave a choked little laugh and smacked her best friend's arm.

Rubbing her arm, Willow grinned, "I'm right! You can't compare Faith to Spike. You should never compare any relationship you have to Spike. You and Spike were… were… I don't even have a handy analogy for how stupid the two of you being together was. But you and… Faith…" Willow's voice petered out.

"Just as stupid?"

"No…" Willow winced a little. "Buffy, have you thought about celibacy, I mean, _really_ considered the option, 'cause I think it might be the way to go."

Buffy stared at her best friend, her jaw locked in a scary, teeth-grinding smile. "Well, look who got out of the funny side of the bed today. How come you're so darn chipper anyway? Last I heard, you're love life was sucking harder than mine."

"Can't a girl just be happy that she's having a day out with her best friend," Willow grinned. "We never do stuff together any more."

"We've been doing stuff together every day for the past two weeks."

"I know, it reminds me how much I miss the old days, ya know? Back when we were in high school and all we had to worry about were swim team monsters and Zombie gatecrashers."

_Uh oh_, Buffy thought again.

"You really miss high school, though?" She said aloud.

"Not most of it," Willow admitted with a little shrug. She glanced across at the meeting still taking place, maybe a little too casually.

_Okay_, Buffy thought, _enough about me then._

"Sooo, how are you and Kennedy doing? Things getting any better?"

Willow gave a slight grimace and turned her eyes to the big fish tank. "Yes and no. So where do you want Faith to take you tonight?"

"The opera. What does yes _and_ no mean?"

"Since when do you like the op…?"

"Okay, scuba diving. Have you two even tried the communicating thing yet?"

"Yes!" Willow finally looked at her. "I'm large with the communicating, I'm… I'm communicating my ass off! And Kennedy's just… impervious."

"So things aren't better?" Buffy asked gently.

"No, they are," Willow slouched, looking tired. "Things are better, but that doesn't seem to be making things – as a whole – better."

Buffy's expression obviously said it all, because Willow went into a deeper explanation.

"We're talking, but it's like we're friends, nothing more. We sleep in the same bed every night but that's all we've done in it since the lust spell. She kisses me on the lips, but she might as well be kissing an attractive, non-blood related aunt. It's like she's there, but she's not there, ya know?"

Buffy nodded. Willow sounded really distressed with the situation. Her chipperness

all chipped away.

"I thought I had her last night." A little of Willow's smile came back. "We kissed and it was like old times and I thought, yay, we're getting somewhere, but then she pulled away like she'd just realised she was kissing a nasty old frog, that I was a nasty old frog, and then she went out with Vi."

"Yeah, she's not been patrolling much recently," Buffy downplayed Kennedy's complete lack of patrolling.

"I know, and that's not Kennedy. Kennedy loves patrolling! She's always been so Slayer2000, like it was what she was built to do, and now she's just not interested. And I feel like it's my fault, and I haven't done anything wrong!"

"Maybe you two just need a break."

"But I don't want to break up with her!" Willow's voice grew louder.

Buffy saw Oz glance over; actually it was more of a stare than a glance. When he finally looked back at their… was client the right word? Buffy said,

"I meant a vacation or something, perhaps a weekend away for the two of you."

"We don't have time for that," Willow griped. "Or any money until Kennedy gets a job."

"Well what about a date?" Buffy suggested. "You could take her out somewhere tonight."

Willow looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, I suppose we could double with you guys; Kennedy might be more interested then."

"No, no, no, no," Buffy said quickly. "This is our first date, and I think it's going to be interesting enough with just the two of us."

She didn't want to be mean, but this was her night and something she'd been thinking about and looking forward to long before Faith even asked her. The last thing she wanted was Willow and Kennedy putting a dampener on it.

"Anyway, I think it would probably do you both more good to go alone."

"I guess," Willow sighed, before brightening a little. "Actually, maybe your right and this is just what we need. I'll ask her when we get home."

Buffy's grin of encouragement was only slightly muted by noticing Oz was staring over again; his face quietly thundery.


	4. Act 1:3

Hi. Thanks for the reviews for the last chapter. Reviews make me happy. Here's the last section of Act 1

* * *

Kennedy was in the training barn. She'd already been for a run with Vi, and then spent some time working with the newer Slayers. Eventually though, all their whining about if it was their night off shouldn't it be their day off too, had driven her mad and she'd given them what they wanted. She'd skipped for half an hour, and then wailed on a punch bag for another, but it wasn't as distracting as something that could hit back.

Now she was working with the weights, which also didn't do anything to redirect her thoughts, but she stayed with it, morosely wondering what Willow might be doing at just that moment.

She gave a half-hearted smile as Rona wandered in. "Morning."

Rona grunted to the affirmative and came to sit on the bench press bench. "You do realise you're a Slayer, right?"

"Huh?" Kennedy looked over, but didn't stop curling the two large dumbbells into her shoulders.

"We're already about as strong as we're gonna get," Rona clarified.

"Show me the proof," Kennedy said simply, putting down her weights. "Spot me?"

Shrugging, Rona moved to let Kennedy lie down and picked the barbell up from the rest with one hand. She held it steady for Kennedy to take.

"Proof? How about: I never see Buffy lifting weights, but I have seen her wipe the floor with your ass every day this week," Rona smirked.

Kennedy shook her head as she began her exercise. "Two days ago I managed to knock her to the mat with a single punch."

"What happened then?"

"I'm not sure exactly," Kennedy admitted, "but my shoulder makes this strange clicking sound when I stretch now."

Rona smirked, "How come you're getting the special treatment anyway? Buffy doesn't train one-on-one with the rest of us."

"You have a Watcher," Kennedy pointed out as she pumped the large weight up and down with too much ease. It wasn't taking the edge from her anxiety at all. "Do we have anything bigger?"

Rona took the weight from her hands and checked out what was already on the bar. "I don't have a Watcher, I have a stuck up white boy from England who doesn't know which end of a Vampire to stake, but _still_ keeps trying to tell me what to do."

"That's what a Watcher is!" Kennedy laughed, "And six months ago you didn't know which end of a Vampire to stake either. Besides, Reece might be a creep, but he does know what he's doing; and at least he's invested."

"Yeah, in looking at my boobs," Rona shook her head as she looked through the stack and picked out a couple of 25 kilogram disks. "I have no idea what Dawn sees in him."

"Me neither, but then I'm not about to be entranced by his rock hard abs and broad manly chest."

"I'll take the rock hard abs and manly chest any day of the week," Rona smirked. "It's his personality I can't stand. That guy thinks he's God's gift. I swear I heard him putting the moves on Cici the other day."

Kennedy took the heavier bar in her outstretched hands and tested the weight. It was definitely better; she could actually feel some tension in her muscles. "You should tell Dawn."

"And say what: 'I heard your boyfriend talking to a Slayer'? That's his job! I'll look like an idiot; and besides Giles keeps saying how we have to forge this relationship together based on trust and respect," Rona sneered a little, "and I don't think ratting him out to his girlfriend comes under either of those categories. Maybe you should tell her; you guys hang more."

"Not since she and Reece got together," Kennedy muttered the truth. And it sucked, because she really could have done with her closest friend right now.

She'd almost tried talking to Buffy a few times, but she stalled every time on the first word. She knew the older Slayer was getting there was a problem, but she was Willow's bestest ever and Kennedy couldn't be sure Buffy wouldn't pass on information she'd rather keep to herself.

"Anyway, if I said something it would be even less viable. If someone came to me with 'I heard that someone heard…' I'd tell them to go to hell for stirring shit up." Kennedy was feeling a little burn in her muscles from pumping the bar now, but it still wasn't helping. She needed a diversion, something to take her mind of her own woes. "But if we could catch him out…"

"You mean like set him up?" Rona asked, interested.

"Not exactly," Kennedy chuckled. "I wouldn't want to put anyone in the position where they had to actually be nice to him, plus if one of us… well one of you, because I'm obviously disqualified, were to try and lure him out, Dawn is not going to be happy with the poor shmuck who gets the job."

Rona suddenly smiled, "Put him at a party with a lot of high school girls, how do you think he's gonna react?"

"Like a bitch in heat," Kennedy laughed. "But Dawn's birthday isn't for a few months yet."

"No, but there's a party tonight. Some McKinley High thing for Halloween, except, not exactly school sanctioned from the way Dawn was describing it. Reece is goin' with her and she invited all the Slayers." Rona was still smiling. "All we need is a camera and for nature to take its course and we have a snapshot of Reece doing the dirty with some poor unsuspecting Junior."

"She never asked me," Kennedy frowned and let the barbell clunk into its stand behind her head.

"She probably thought you'd be busy with Willow."

Kennedy lay on the bench, looking up at the dark, dusty roof of the barn.

Spending the evening with Willow would be her first choice… _if it was a few weeks ago_. She still could, she knew that. Willow would be home around six. They hadn't spent an evening together in two weeks and Kennedy was missing her like crazy.

But then there was the matter of where Willow had been all day. And who she was with almost every day just recently. And she didn't mean Buffy. It wasn't that Willow shoved her ex's name down her throat all the time, Kennedy did that just fine by herself, but when Willow spoke about her day, it was hard for his name not to come up.

"No, we haven't planned anything," Kennedy said eventually, sitting up and swinging her feet to the floor. "And Will'll probably just want to do her exercises when she gets home and go to bed. She had a really early start this morning. I'll come to the party."

"Sweet! Now we just need a camera."

Kennedy chuckled at how obviously bored Rona was here and gave a slight shrug, "Easy, just raid Andrew's bedroom."

* * *

The shower block was silent apart from the soft scrape of the spatula applying tile cement to the bricks. There was a radio in the corner, but Faith hadn't been able to find any station that didn't irritate her, so it was off.

Xander had been absent all morning. After popping in soon after she'd started, just to give her his standard tool maintenance speech like he did every morning, he'd left to do who knew what, leaving her to just get on with it.

It was her third day on this particular job – Xander had helped for most of the first day – and she was nearly finished, just a half a wall to go. She was finding the tiling strangely therapeutic; having this boring-ass task to do was taking her mind off her dilemma.

Setting the spatula aside, she fitted in a couple of dozen spacers just like Xander had shown her and then went to the corner for the next stack of tiles. They were white and boring too, with just a tiny blue rain drop in the top left hand corner as decoration. Yesterday she'd almost gone stark-raving mad just staring at them, but today she was happy for the blankness; happy for the white-out in her brain.

It was better than thinking about Buffy.

Not that thinking about Buffy was ever bad these days, frustrating sometimes, but not bad – but thinking about Buffy this morning would just put her in panic mode.

What kind of dumbfuck asks a woman like Buffy out on a date without planning something first?

She'd racked her brains for the first hour on the job and had just managed to get herself more and more stressed about it. Buffy would be expecting something amazing; she deserved something amazing, and Faith had_… nothing…at…all._

But she wasn't thinking about that, she was thinking about hanging these boring tiles on the wall. One after another, smoosh 'em down like Xander showed her, wiggle 'em a little, make sure they're pushed up tight against the spacers.

Secretly, Faith was hoping if she didn't think about the problem, an answer would just materialise in her head. It worked that way sometimes. True, the answer she came up with wasn't always the wisest one, but it wasn't like she was having a lot luck with going at it head on.

What did people even do on dates?

"I'm not thinking about it," Faith muttered to herself as she stuck another tile to the bricks with the sludgy cement. "I'm focusing on my job."

Which, surprising to her, wasn't going so badly. It beat the hell out of laundering a hundred sheets a day, and even the tedious stuff like this was kind of interesting in a way.

Xander had a strong philosophy when it came to work; he went at it like a good Watcher went at a Slayer. Every little thing was important, right down to carefully putting the little spacers between the tiles and getting the right amount of cement on the little spatula – too much it squishes out the sides, not enough and the tile falls right off – the extreme attention to detail paid off every single time and by following it, Faith was actually experiencing some pride in her work for maybe the first time ever outside of Slaying.

It made Xander feel good to build things or repair things, he took joy in seeing other people take pleasure in the things he built and repaired – Faith still couldn't believe he'd renovated and kitted out the fantastic training barn all on his own – and now his lust for this stuff was starting to rub off on her. It was wicked weird, but it was making Faith feel good too.

Kennedy and Willow's faces when they'd first walked into their bedroom – the one that she had helped repair and then painted mostly on her own – had made her feel good.

And when all the newbie Slayers and the Cadets started using this shower block instead of making her have to queue for the bathroom upstairs, well that was gonna feel frickin' great.

She realised she was humming now, and stopped abruptly. Taking a little pride in her work was one thing, humming was not. If anyone heard her…

There a quiet chuckle from behind. _Busted._

"You're really getting the _hang_ of those tiles, Faith." Xander chuckled again at his lame joke. "Nice to see you happy in your work."

"Thanks," she muttered, choosing to fit another tile than look at him.

"It almost makes me not want to point out that they're all upside down."

"What?" Faith took a step back to check out her work. "Damn!"

They weren't all upside down, but a good portion of the ones she'd hung that morning were. The tiny rain drops in the bottom right corner instead of the top left like the ones on the other three walls.

She obviously hadn't been concentrating as hard as she thought she was. So caught up in the routine of spacer, cement, tile that she'd forgotten to look for the tiny blue motif.

"Do I have to do them all over?" she groaned, facing him.

Xander was chewing gum thoughtfully as he looked at the tiles.

Eventually, with a sly look in his eye and a hint of mischief in his voice, he said, "I guess not… if you tell me where you're taking Buffy tonight?"

"You tell me, dude?" Faith looked at the tiles again.

There were at least thirty that were upside down.

"Oh, come on," Xander grinned. "You can't tell me you haven't been thinking about it. Your mind obviously has been elsewhere this morning. The closest I'm ever gonna come to dating Buffy is vicariously through you, so give me a little info."

"I'm not kidding, Xan. I have no idea." Faith admitted. "I don't know why I even asked her."

Xander frowned, "What?"

"Don't get me wrong, I wanted to ask her out. I wanna go on a _date_ with her, but I'm kidding myself if I think I know how."

"Well you already did the hard bit, now you just go."

"But where?" Faith couldn't do eye-contact right now; this conversation was hard enough to have without that. So she set up another tile – the right way up this time.

"Well, you could always go for coffee."

"Coffee's lame."

"I'll have you know coffee makes for a very good first date. And at least you don't have to worry about Buffy tying you to a big wheel and stabbing you at the end."

Faith cocked an eyebrow at that, but let it go without asking for answers.

"Buffy's going to be expecting something big. It's our first date, man, it should be something frickin' mind-blowing and I'm coming up empty."

"Well, I don't know if it counts as mind-blowing, but there's a Halloween party at Barnies tonight." Xander told her as he pulled a tape measure out of his dark blue work pants. "I was gonna go, but it turns out nearly everyone's gonna be out of the house tonight and that is so not an opportunity I'm prepared to miss."

"Gonna watch TV in your boxers?" Faith smirked over her shoulder at him.

"Yep," Xander nodded as he measured the gap up by the ceiling not quite big enough for a whole tile. "There's a _Simpson's' Tree-house of Horrors _marathon for starters and then _Halloween_, _Freddie versus Jason_, the list goes on; and they'll be no kids around trying to switch the channel to _Sabrina the Teenage Witch _– its gonna be sweet, sweet and gory."

"Sounds fun," Faith murmured, fiddling with the spatula. "Maybe me and B should just stay in after all."

"Don't even think it," Xander shook his head. "This is a private party; just me, the TV and a crate of beer in the fridge. A man has to have his time and I am a man, therefore I must have my time. Unless, you know, you and Buffy plan to watch the TV in your underwear too."

Faith rolled her eyes, "Dude, she won't even give me a look at her underwear in the bedroom." She shook her head and went back to work. "So, you really think taking her to this party is a good idea?"

"It's not like you have anything else planned. And it's a costume party so you'll get points for fun-having, 'cause who doesn't have fun at a Halloween costume party. All those Witches and Werewolves and Vampires – not like it's something you see every day… Oh wait…"

Faith rolled her eyes. "Well that's out, I don't do costume parties."

"You didn't do sane-living and relationships until just recently either, but you seem to be enjoying those."

"True, but dressing up? Man, that's lamer than coffee. I wanna take her, I don't know, hang-gliding or scuba-diving or something, ya know, a proper Slayer date."

"If it makes it better, I know Buffy likes dressing up."

"She would," Faith sighed deeply before setting to cleaning the spatula as quickly as possible.

"Hey, what are you doing? It's not knocking off time yet. You still have four more rows to do and then there's the grouting!"

"Later, Xan, I gotta call B and let her know she needs a costume."

As Faith left the shower block to a background of Xander's sarcastic mutterings, she realised she had no idea what to dress up as. She only had about six hours to come up with something that was gonna blow Buffy's mind.

This dating shit just never got any easier, did it?

* * *

"You didn't tell me we'd be cutting class!" Dawn whispered to Fen as she kept her head below the windows of Aaron Pritchard's red Chevy Lumina.

"Like you'd have come if I did," Fen grinned, poking her head up a little to see if they were clear of the school drive yet. "Besides, its only history – it's not like you're gonna learn anything new in there, right?"

Dawn chuckled, pushing herself up in the back seat as Fen did. "I would still too have come; I just would have maybe faked Buffy's sig on a note or something."

"Sunny D, you _have_ to start appreciating the finer things in life a little more. Didn't you say Buffy wanted you to have at least one good year of high school? Well, this is what she meant!" Fen waved her arms around, indicating everything within and around the car.

"I'm pretty sure its not."

"Oh come on! Cutting class is one of the chief high school experiences. All the cool kids are doing it," Fen winked at her. "Besides, tonight is gonna rock so hard it's gonna be history in the frakkin' making!"

As Fen shouted her enthusiasm, Aaron high-fived with the guy riding shotgun, Charlie someone or other, and they both gave a loud, heartfelt "Yeah!"

Dawn giggled, caught up in their gusto and as Aaron put his foot down, tearing around the next bend on the two-lane blacktop country road, she squealed with Fen, their hands clutching each other in an exaggerated manner.

Thirty minutes later, Aaron pulled onto an unkempt dirt drive and Fen sat forward to see through the windscreen.

"We're here."

Dawn sat forward too. "Where's here exactly?"

"Only the coolest location for a Halloween party ever!" Fen grinned. "No one's ever dared before, as far as I know. Every little kid round here gets told: 'Don't go near it, you'll get eaten by a monster.' And then as you get older its: 'Don't go near it, you'll get rabies from the rats and fall through a rotten floor board.' It's stupid how much that kid-crap can affect you, but I've lived in the area my whole seventeen years and this is the closest I've ever been to it."

"Where?" Fen's words were sending a shiver up Dawn's spine.

As the car began to crunch over weed choked gravel, Fen pointed out the windshield as she whispered, "Mage Manor."

Dawn looked up at it fearfully, but relaxed as soon as she realised what she was looking at. "It's just a house."

"This isn't just a house," Fen opened her door and jumped out onto the gravel as the two guys did the same. "But I'll forgive you're naivety seeing as you're a Greenhorn."

"I'm a what?" Dawn asked, climbing from the car.

"No time; pay attention and I'll give you the skinny." Fen laid her arms on the sun-warmed roof of the Lumina.

Dawn watched Aaron and Charlie go to a partially open window half way along the house and climb through before she gave her full attention to her friend.

"Okay, to start with, there is something you need to understand: This place came first."

Dawn shrugged a little. "Give me a point of reference here?"

"Before Boudenver was here. Before Pleasant Creek was ever settled. For all the records show, it could have been here before Christopher Columbus was even old enough to say the word _boat_! It's been here forever."

"And?"

"It's never been occupied!"

Fen said it with enough dramatic effect that the sun slipped behind the only cloud in the sky.

"Never?" Dawn frowned.

Fen shook her head slowly, "Never, ever."

"That's not possible."

"I agree," Fen nodded now. "But I'm just telling you what everyone around here already knows is fact."

"So if no one's ever lived in it, why doesn't someone just knock it down instead of leaving it to rot on this hill?"

"It's been tried; more than once. Did you ever see a wrecking ball swing on its chain like a Tetherball around a pole?"

"I've only ever seen one wrecking ball and I didn't actually see it do anything."

Xander had stopped the machinery by the time Dawn had made it back down from the tower, but apparently it had hit Glory good and hard – she wished she'd seen that, she still had nightmares too often about Ben showing up out of the blue.

Dawn gave a little shrug, "So no."

"Yeah, me neither, but my dad said it was something to see… something real nasty to see. Nobody knows quite what happened, even those who were there, but people died and the house is still standing. That was before I was born. Then, ten years ago, they decided to try explosives. Used loads of it, wanting rid of the place once and for all, fed a detonation line all the way back down the hill this time so no one would get hurt accidentally."

"What happened?" Dawn was hooked on the tale now despite herself. At first she thought Fen was just messing with her, but the look in her friend's eyes was starting to convince her otherwise. "Did the explosives not go off?"

"No, they went off, with a big, loud bang. But the house was still standing afterwards, not a scratch on it, not even the dirt and gravel was disturbed."

"How's that possible?"

"It's not," Fen shrugged, "but there ya go." She left the car and walked towards the window the boys had climbed through. Dawn walked with her. "There's furniture and stuff, all real old, so we figure someone did live here at some point, but no ones ever seen anyone coming or going. I've heard rumours that it was a recluse, some old foreign hermit man, but as no one ever saw him, who knows?"

Fen took a deep breath and boosted herself up onto the window sill. It took her two tries before she could get a leg in the window and she sat there for a minute getting her breath back.

"People just tried moving in too. I mean, look at this place; it's huge, talk about your quality real estate. But no one ever seems too last long."

"Do they die?" Dawn asked, a little quiver in her voice.

"Nah," Fen laughed and jumped down into the mansion. "They just move out real quick. They say it has an unwelcoming vibe. Too draughty, the pipes creak too loud, doesn't matter how hard they try to rid the place of dust its still an allergy sufferer's worse nightmare."

Dawn boosted herself up and as she rested with her stomach on the window sill and her legs still dangling in the open air, she thought, _Ghosts!_

That had to be the answer to the mansion's mysteries. None of it made a lick of sense unless you factored the supernatural in to your reasoning, and ghosts, or spirits or whatever they preferred to be called, was the most obvious conclusion.

Dawn hadn't personally had anything to do that side of the paranormal, but she knew Buffy had had a few unfun encounters. She looked around warily now as she half-fell, half jumped into the room with Fen.

It didn't seem spooky, just abandoned.

There was a layer of dust at least two inches thick over everything, including the worn carpet. The sun streamed in from three large windows, making the place bright if not particularly cheery.

The furniture was old, as Fen had predicted. It had probably been old a century or two ago. It looked expensive and finely crafted. There was a chaise-lounge like the kind in Titanic and the red cushion was threadbare in places and the gilt on the arms and legs had long since peeled off, only traces left to give a sparse indication of its one-time beauty.

A large fireplace took up most of the wall to the right of her. The fire pit was filled with thick black soot and the soot was all over the hearth and the carpet too. An elaborate mantelpiece extended from the floor to the top of the fireplace and then up still further, making a beautifully extravagant focal point for the room. It put their tiny but serviceable fireplace back home to shame. And Dawn wasn't known for her skills in geology, but she was pretty sure the mantel was made of white marble too.

She was wandering closer for a better look, when Fen called her over. "Come on, let's go find the guys."

They left the room behind them and Fen called out for some clue as to where the other two had gone. Following Aaron's shouts they finally found a… well, Ballroom was really the only way Dawn could think to describe it.

It was big, much bigger than the gym at McKinley High, maybe even bigger than the school's football field! Again dust covered everything, but the intricate blue-green pattern of the smooth floor was still discernable and the gold trimmings around the walls were still gold.

Dawn felt her eyes drawn upwards by the expanse of the room. "Holy cow!"

"What?" Fen looked up in confusion. "Jeez."

The entire ceiling was a painted mural. It was impossible to make out the whole picture standing in this one spot by the door, and the cobwebs didn't help, but Dawn could make out swirling clouds of purple-green smoke, flying dragons the same blue-green as the floor and figures…

Dawn walked into the centre of the room – it took her a minute to get there – and looked up again.

One figure was quite obviously a man. He wore a blue robe and his hair and beard were long and blonde. He was pointing a big stick at the other figure and a stream of something swirly and black was coming from the end of it. The other figure was obviously not a man. He was big and muscle-bound and red paint had been used for his flesh. He had a vaguely human looking face, but was suffering from a severe case of horns – all over his head and shoulders. He was also breathing fire at the robed man.

All in all, it was impressive, but not a particularly nice scene.

"Bet who ever painted that died of neck ache, huh?" Fen grinned.

Dawn figured the painter might have met a worse fate actually, but said nothing as she joined the boys with Fen.

"Did we not tell you this place was the bomb?" Charlie hooted, slapping Aaron on the back as the other boy laid out speaker wire around the edge of the room.

"It's awesome," Dawn agreed, shaking off her worries. Her fears were probably groundless anyway and it wasn't like she could share them with these guys even if they weren't. "So do you even know what you're doing?"

She smirked at Aaron, who'd run out of wire near another doorway and seemed at a loss as to how to handle it. It was funny how she found it a lot easier to talk to the boys at school now she was with Reece. She'd always felt so self-conscious talking to them before, but now, not so much.

"No," Aaron admitted smiling at her. He had a sweet smile; all of him was sweet actually. He wasn't particularly good looking, but he was friendly looking. "But that's not my problem. The dorks from Bou Academy are setting it all up, we just offered to do the heavy lifting," he explained.

"Bou Academy?"

For the first time she noticed there were three other guys in the room. They were up at the far end, all leaning over some shiny hi-tech equipment that looked nothing like a stereo. They were spinning dials, checking clipboards and finely adjusting the instrument they were hovering over.

"The party is their baby," Charlie explained. "And I know, who'da a thought those geeks could have an idea this damn good?"

Dawn shrugged. She didn't know a lot about the Boudenver Academy, except that it was a private school for gifted children, whatever that meant. She gave the boys a wave, but they all ignored her.

"What are they doing over there?" she asked.

"Don't know, don't care," Fen grinned. "Just as long as this place is monsterific tonight."

As Dawn looked around the room again – there was a grand piano in another corner – she felt her skin prickle at her friend's words. She didn't know why. It was Halloween, after all, that meant the ghouls stayed at home.

A sharp _kwa-zzing_ sound filled the air and the smell of burnt dust burst through the room. Dawn felt dizzy and off balance. The room blurred before her eyes and grew warm – she hadn't realised how cold it had been. She staggered a step, strangely disorientated, her eyes on the sparkling blue and green tiles of the shiny, polished floor…

12


	5. Act 2:1

Hi guys. Sorry, I know it was more than 10 days, but coursework and assignments got in the way. Thanks for the reviews. I hope you like this part :)

* * *

Act two

It had felt like a minor earthquake, a 3-pointer maybe, but without the ground shaking part. A mind-quake? Dawn blinked, still dizzy and a little nauseous as she heard the Bou Academy boys shouting at each other angrily. One yelled out an apology about technical hitches.

"You okay, Sunny D?"

Dawn swallowed hard against the saliva in her mouth. "Yeah, did you see that?"

"No, but I sure as hell heard it," Fen complained, rubbing her ears and shaking her head slightly. "Made my brain go funny."

Charlie looked like he had a headache all of a sudden and Aaron was looking up at the ceiling, confused.

"Did the chandeliers just come on for a second?"

Fen looked up at them. "Candles don't just come on at random, at least not without some person randomly lighting them."

"I just coulda sworn they were all blazing away up there for a second," Aaron gave himself a little shake, forgetting about it as he slapped Charlie on the back. "Come on, there's still loads of heavy stuff in their van we need to shift.

"Did they bring decorations too?" Fen followed them. "This is supposed to be a Halloween party, not a sixteenth century ball! This place has to be super scary tonight or else everyone's gonna think its lame."

"Yeah they have a bunch of plastic skeletons in the van." One of the boys answered.

"Ooh, scary!" Fen mocked a shiver, laughing as she followed them out of the room. "Dawn, come on, let's see if they went all out and got plastic spiders too."

"Just a minute," Dawn called, and watched them leave before she looked back down at the scuffed dust on the floor. Slowly she crouched down to take a closer look and reached out to touch the white blob she'd spotted.

Wax. And it was still warm.

With a wary, perplexed look at the chandelier she shot to her feet and raced after the others.

* * *

The house in Wooster couldn't have been further removed from the psychologist's fancy office if it had actively tried. The paint on the walls was probably more expensive than the house itself. Not that Buffy could see any paint on the walls, or the walls themselves for that matter. The stuff in here gave clutter a _good _name; made clutter look tidy by comparison.

There were giant urns, Aladdin-esque lamps and Ming vases fighting for floor and shelf space. There was a cauldron hanging over the fire; and although Buffy had been told it was purely for show, she was sure the burnt carrot smell had originated there. There was a three dimensional model of the solar system hanging from the ceiling, several broomsticks stacked in one corner and a stuffed goat in the corner opposite. There were crystal balls and tarot cards and ouija boards and dribbly candles. The room looked like the Magic Box having a bad hair day.

The jet black parrot in the large ornate cage was staring at her, unblinking. Every now and then it would let out a screech followed by a stream of gibberish mixed with foul language. It was pissing her off.

Buffy shifted in her seat, her ass going numb, whoever had stuffed the armchair obviously hadn't known the difference between foam and bricks. Willow and the self-professed wizard had gone through to a little adjoining room that was bare save for the circle of white sand they were sitting in cross-legged facing each other. Buffy could vaguely hear their chanting through the beaded curtain.

Oz was sitting in a chair next to hers, and while Buffy had been checking out the room, he had been staring fixedly at the curtain. She didn't know if he was worried that Willow was in there alone with the strange – very strange, in fact – man, or if he was just taking advantage of the gentle breeze swaying the beads to catch glimpses of her.

"What do you think they're doing in there?" Buffy asked, needing to break the edgy silence.

"Something magical," Oz replied softly.

"That the best you got?" Buffy gave him a half grin.

Oz didn't add anything. Buffy let the grin drop and had another staring match with the parrot. She lost again.

"She's come so far, it's… frightening."

Buffy looked hard at Oz, he didn't look like he was being funny, so she checked her initial light-hearted response.

"She has. In fact she went too far and had to come back some."

"She told me about the black magic."

"She did?" Buffy was surprised; Willow often went out of her way to not talk about it.

Oz nodded, "It was hard on her."

"It was hard on all of us," Buffy said sharply. "No one remembers that time as a picnic."

"I meant, for her to tell me."

"Oh. Well, like I said, no picnic."

Oz nodded and was silent long enough for Buffy to think the conversation was over. She looked up at the solar system above their heads. The parrot listed the fifty states in alphabetical order, twice, and then let out a really long fake belch.

"Was it Tara's fault?"

Buffy snapped her head around to glare at Oz, "Well, seeing as I'm pretty sure she didn't mean to get shot in cold blood, I'm gonna have to go with no."

Oz held her stare, his eyes solemn. "I was referring to…"

"Also no." Buffy cut him off, her voice an angry whisper. "When Will first started dabbling in the dark stuff, Tara left her – even though it must have nearly killed her to do it – she sure as hell didn't encourage her."

"Sorry." Oz sighed. "I'm just trying to understand."

"I get that," Buffy's anger simmered down. "But you won't find the answers you're looking for by laying the blame at Tara's feet. If you want someone to blame, blame the universe for giving her the power in the first place, or blame Willow for not asking for help before she got to deep in it, or blame me for being the Slayer and giving her the reasons to use that power in less than white ways."

"Or I could blame myself." Oz was back to staring at the curtain. "Her gift always scared me. Not because I thought she would harm anyone else, I was scared it would harm her."

"It did, but not because you left," Buffy said. "It did because that's what power does. It corrupts, even the good guys."

"Maybe if I hadn't left…"

"No offence, Oz, you're swell an' all, but Willow loved Tara as much as she loved you." More in Buffy's honest opinion, but she didn't want to hurt him. "And if she wasn't enough to keep Will from the dark side…"

Oz stood up abruptly and went to the bird cage; there was a dish of monkey nuts resting on a pile of astrological magazines. He took one and poked it through the bars. The parrot grabbed it in its talon and made a noise like car horn – honk honk – before carefully pulling at the crispy pod with its beak to get at the nuts inside.

"How well do you know Kennedy?"

The sudden question should have been unexpected, unfortunately, it wasn't. Buffy closed her eyes briefly and mentally groaned again.

"Not as well as Will, obviously, but pretty well. Well enough to know she's got the makings of a great Slayer, well enough to know she's a nice person, and well enough to know that she and Willow are good together."

"I thought they were having problems." Oz said quietly.

"Did she tell you that?" Buffy asked carefully.

Oz nodded, giving the parrot another nut case.

"Well, don't worry, I'm sure they're gonna be fine." Buffy injected as much cheer into her reply as possible, pretending she didn't get where he was coming from and hoping he wouldn't clarify it for her, and thinking, '_Hurry up, Willow!'_

"What if they're not?" Oz came back to his chair, ignoring the bird screeching obscenities for more nuts. "If Kennedy leaves, do _you_ think Willow would, could, go there again?"

Buffy levelled her gaze to his, a don't-bullshit-me look in her eyes. "I thought you were hoping Kennedy would leave her? You want her back, don't you? That's not gonna happen if Kennedy stays."

Oz gave the smallest of shrugs, "I want Willow to be happy. And she doesn't seem happy with Kennedy. If I'm wrong, then I'm wrong, but if I'm right… I'm not gonna lie, if I'm right, I'm hoping she'll give me another chance at making her happy."

Buffy, surprised by his honesty, didn't know what to say at first. She couldn't really refute his argument. She wanted to get a promise out of him that he wouldn't try and split Willow and Kennedy up, but she knew that wasn't her place. She had a strong urge to call Kennedy and tell her to stop being a dick right this minute, but she totally got why Kennedy was being a dick in the first place, so that wouldn't work either.

It was between the three of them. She just had to hope that Willow and Kennedy would work it out if they were meant to. And if not, that Oz would indeed be there to make her best friend happy. Kennedy not going rogue Slayer on them if she was dumped would be a plus too.

"I appreciate you being straight with me," Buffy finally answered, smiling a little. "I know you probably don't see this as any of my business, but, I'll be straight with you too. It kinda feels like my business when you are coming seriously close to screwing with the harmony in my house."

"I thought Giles owned the property."

"That's just a technicality. I'm head Slayer," she grinned at him. "Wherever I lay myScythe is myhome. And I'm all about the harmony – not _the_ Harmony, obviously, just harmony in general – so I'd really appreciate it if you didn't come any closer to the screwing." She grimaced playfully as she realised what she'd said, but rallied well. "Yeah, I think that sums it up."

Oz finally smiled. "So, changing the subject; Harmony – did you ever put the dust on her or is she still at large?"

"She was working as Angel's secretary last time I saw her; which would be a couple of months ago now."

Oz showed some surprise at that, but before he could comment Buffy's cell rang.

She pulled it from her pocket and a look at the caller id made her smile.

"Hi, honey. What's up?" Buffy rolled her eyes as she listened to the reply. "What's wrong with honey? It's a nice endearment."

She listened some more. "I'm not answering the phone 'Hey sexy', at least, not when I'm in company."

She sat back in her chair. "I'm with Oz. Willow's with some magic guy in the other room."

Buffy grinned at Oz. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind me answering the phone like that, it's me that minds…Of course I think you're sexy… because that's not how I answer the phone, that's why!"

Buffy rolled her eyes again. "Faith, not that I mind shooting the breeze with you like this, but, did you have a reason for calling? 'Cause if so I think it's gonna get lost if we keep arguing about phone-answering etiquette."

"No, don't you dare hang up just so I can answer correctly…!" Buffy was speaking to a dial tone. She shook her head and snapped the phone closed, but didn't put it away. "Can you believe her?"

"So, you and Faith, huh?" Oz asked, smiling.

"_Huh_ about sums it up, yeah," Her phone rang again. She picked it up and said hello, but there was no one there. Bemused, she closed it.

The phone rang again, but no name flashed up on the caller id. Buffy looked at it with a frown. It rang again, still no name.

"What the hell?"

It rang a third time and Buffy started pressing buttons, trying anything to get the damn phantom ringing to stop. The fourth time the ring ended with a long belch and Buffy narrowed her eyes at the parrot.

"Do that again and I'll pluck your feathers one by one, understand?"

The bird did it again, and raised one of its talons. It was impossible for a bird claw to give her the finger, but she was pretty sure that was the intention.

The phone rang again and Buffy jumped to her feet. She stalked towards the cage as the ringing continued. Feather plucking might actually be too inhumane, but she was more than prepared to smack the cage enough to knock the infuriating parrot from its perch.

The ringing was still coming, over and over. Buffy had one hand up to sway the cage when Oz called over,

"I think that might actually be your phone."

"Oh." Buffy looked down and saw Faith's name flashing on and off. "You got lucky this time, bird," she said before turning away to answer her cell. "Hello."

"Yeah, well, you hung up on me and I've got a parrot pissing me off, so no one is looking all that sexy right now… No it's okay. I can beat up the damn bird myself if I need to, besides we're in Wooster, you wouldn't be able to get here. Just, why did you call?"

Buffy went and sat back in the hard chair, her nose scrunching a little at what Faith was saying. "A costume? Why do I need a costume? I'm not sure we're up to role-play just yet."

She flicked her eyes Oz's way, but he was obviously no wiser than her. He did look mildly amused though.

"No, I'm sure I can get something, but a clue would be nice… Come on, just one!... Is it inside or outside?... It's not a stupid question! Inside means party, outside means trick or treating," Buffy started chuckling. "See, it is a good question, that's why you won't answer it now… okay, fine, I'll do my best. So what are you going as?... So you haven't thought of anything yet?... No, no, I'm not questioning your mad costume skills, or should that be skillz…no I pronounced it with a z on the end that time, hence the zzz sound… You start calling me Bumble B, I'm never calling you sexy… Because bumbles are rabbit poo, F … no, rabbit poo is only endearing if you're a bunny with a poo fetish… okay, this is getting more disturbing by the minute… no, I meant our relationship."

Buffy was laughing now; it got worse when she saw the weird look Oz was giving her. "I have to go… yes, I'll get a costume…" She smiled bashfully at something Faith didn't quite say, "I awkward hesitation you, too. I'll see you when I get home: Sexy." Buffy blew a kiss down the phone and hung up before Faith could say anything else.

She grinned at Oz as she slipped her phone back in her pocket. "Think we can find a costume shop in Wooster after?"

"Sure, why?"

Buffy shrugged, still smiling. "Faith asked me to."

* * *

As Faith put the phone back in its cradle on the wall she was surprised to hear herself giggling.

She was pretty damn sure she hadn't giggled since she was pre-pubescent. In fact any laughing she'd done for as long as she could remember had been sarcastic, cynical or, well, evil, if she was being honest. It was nice to finally be laughing because she was in a good mood, and not just because she'd thought up the coolest way to ruin someone else's good mood.

Weird as hell to though.

Nice and weird seemed like a pretty accurate description of her current sitch. It was a different life alright.

She had a home, like a proper one – more welcoming than a room with a hotplate and adjoining bath; more cosy than a stone-walled cell with bars on the windows – for the first time since she was, what… fourteen?

She had a job that paid more than minimal wage and didn't involve washing sheets.

She had – or was slowly growing – friendships with the people she'd been too scared to let in once upon a time. Sure the bonds were hella tentative, and there were still times she'd catch Willow looking at her with suspicion in her eyes, and still times Xander would be suddenly abrupt with her for no reason she could figure, and Dawn…

Well, Dawn was still all kinds of hostile, but she was so caught up in the golden-haired watcher-boy that it wasn't difficult to stay out her way. With any luck Dawn would get the message that Faith wasn't going anywhere and the anger she obviously felt entitled to would drain away, and if not, in a year or so she'd be going off to college.

All things considered, there had been a serious drop in the suck that usually stuck to her life like a loogey to a brick wall, and to top it all… she had Buffy.

Faith grinned to herself as she looked around the kitchen for a costume idea. She still couldn't believe it, not at all. The other changes were pretty friggin' phenomenal all on their own, but being with Buffy… She didn't have the vocab to do her feelings justice.

Faith hadn't had someone, a _special_ someone, since her mid-teens. Not since she'd blown outta Boston, leaving Kenny-the-little-drummer-boy without a backward glance. There had been people, 'course, a lotta people, but no one she wanted around for more than one night, no one… _special. _

Fact was, Buffy had been the special person in her life since before Faith had even met her. Buffy had never known it, until recently, and still only knew the half of it thanks to how good Faith had gotten at playing those cards close to her chest.

Hell, she'd even managed to convince _herself_ it was hate, not love, she was feeling for good portions of the last five or so years. It had been easier that way, easier not to think about what she was missing, what she could never have. Even if Buffy had had the final say in ninety percent of her choices – good and bad – ever since Faith had been called, the blonde had been completely unaware of it, and Faith had been equally unwilling to admit it.

And… it was a little hard to let that mentality go.

Faith looked in the refrigerator. She wasn't expecting any awesome costume ideas to jump out and go boo at her, but maybe a beer would get her brain working.

She sure as shit _wanted_ to let that kinda thinking go, the kind that was making her be all closed-off with the great chick she'd been into for so damn long. She couldn't seem to do it though, at least not for more than a minute or two at a time. She tried to relax when she was with the blonde, did her best to just be herself and not put on the front she was famous for, but it was not easy.

It didn't help that they never got to spend much time together, and it didn't help that every single time Faith started to feel like a normal person in a decent relationship, some self-destructive part of her reminded her that this wasn't her kinda gig – she didn't do normal, she had no interest in decent. Where the hell was the fun in decent? And while it was on the subject – what was with all the hand-holding and the sweet little kisses every time one of them just walked into a room – was she ten again all of a sudden? And since when was one person enough for her, especially when that person wasn't even putting out?

Faith popped the top from her beer and sat at the kitchen table. One of Willow's magic books had been left lying around. Faith pulled it towards her and started to leaf through, hoping for inspiration.

She knew she shouldn't be thinking like that, or even letting that side of her retard brain have any kind of say in how she did things now, but, yeah, hard. She knew she'd come a long way, but past habits didn't die overnight or over the course of a few months either, not all of them. And it wasn't as if she only wanted Buffy for the lay, hell no, she was damn sure she wanted Buffy for just about everything from here on in, but, and it was a big freaking but right now, the only time Faith didn't get that stupid little voice telling her this was all the things she didn't want, was when she was kissing Buffy. Because then, she couldn't think about anything _but_ kissing Buffy. And every time Buffy stopped the kissing – which was getting sooner and sooner every night – the stupid side of her seemed to come back stronger.

Every time Buffy pulled away, Faith started doubting the blonde's conviction. Not even on a conscious level really, but the doubts were there. She was still having a hard time believing that Buffy wanted to be with her in the first place, after so long of never believing it could be in a million years, because why would she? After everything Faith had done, what in hell would make Buffy take this chance on her? And what the hell was she gonna do when Buffy finally woke up, realised she was a dumbass for going down this road and called it quits? Faith was leaving herself wide open for a whole new world of pain and that was the one and only thing she was scared of… and it scared her bad.

God, she'd never thought she'd say it, but she could not wait to start therapy. She'd hated it in prison, and she was probably gonna hate it once it started here too, but damn, she needed something or someone to talk all this shit out with. That wasn't her either, she didn't do the talking thing when she could avoid it, but she had enough sense to know that if she was gonna stay with Buffy, she needed to figure this shit out quickly – _actually_ figure it out and not just shove it under the carpet like she did with most of her internal drama.

She may have been slowly starting to feel like one of the gang around here, but there was no one she could talk to about, well, anything really, but that went double for Buffy-stuff. They were all her bestest pals. Her parole officer had said she needed to work through things by talking, so stuff didn't bottle up again, but she'd made it clear she wasn't paid to listen to her romantic problems.

As much as Faith knew _she_ needed it, she wasn't so sure about Buffy joining her in a few sessions. Devenrowe seemed to think it wasn't only a good idea, but essential to their relationship. She'd even mentioned it to Buffy already, which, in Faith's opinion, was a bad move. The blonde had agreed automatically, but Faith had seen the traumatised look in her eyes.

It had been five days since that conversation and although neither of them had mentioned it again, she knew it had to be eating at Buffy, and it was about that time that B had started cutting their goodnight make-out sessions in half. If the two weren't linked, it was a hell of a big coincidence.

Faith's page flicking had stopped as her thoughts got deeper, but all this thinking wasn't getting her ready for her date. She blinked herself out of them now and focused on what she was looking at. It was a spell for killing the walking dead – not vampires, but the more literal walking dead. That would work; it wouldn't be too hard to make it look authentic and had the added bonus of not being something as done to death as a witch or a vampire.

Faith looked up from the page as Kennedy wandered into the kitchen. The girl looked listless, and that wasn't a word that would usually describe the brash kid.

"Wassup?"

"Huh?" Kennedy looked surprised to find herself not alone. "Nothing, I'm fine."

"Okay." Faith didn't question it.

Buffy had mentioned Ken and Red were having some problems, but it wasn't her place to pry crap out of the girl if she didn't want to talk.

"So, you settling in okay?" Kennedy fidgeted just inside the doorway.

"Sure, I guess," Faith closed the magic book, pushed it away from her and took a sip of her beer. "S'only been two weeks. I get the feeling it'll be a while before all this stops feeling weird."

"Why weird?"

Faith shrugged, "Just not use to playing happy families."

"Happy families?" Kennedy gave a short laugh. "If this is what you call a happy family, I hate to think of the one you left behind."

Faith shrugged again and took another sip of her beer before replying, "Yeah, well, I hate to think about it too."

Kennedy nodded slowly, realising that might not be the best conversation to get into. "So how's Alison doing?"

Faith smirked, "You mean: How are my Watcher skills screwing up the job you started?"

"No! I just…" Kennedy came further into the room to lean on one of the kitchen chairs. "I don't think you're going to screw anything up."

"Yeah, sorry, forgot you're not one of the old gang there for a minute."

"No, I'm not," Kennedy said softly. There was silence in the kitchen for a minute and Faith was just wondering if it was okay to get up and walk out – she had stuff to do after all – when Kennedy looked up at her again. "From one outsider to another, uh, how well do you know Oz?"

"Well enough to know he was love of Willow's life the first time I was in Sunnydale, shocked the hell out of me they ever broke up, they were so tight." The outsider comment had rankled the hell out of Faith, however unintentional it might have been, but seeing Kennedy's face drop about a thousand degrees brought none of the satisfaction it would have done once. "But, hey, what the hell did I know? Wasn't like they ever really brought me into the loop. I do know she seems pretty crazy over you right now."

There was a little light back in the younger girl's eyes, "Did she actually say that to you?"

"Well, no. But you only gotta look at her to see it."

"I look at her all the time, and I don't see it."

"Maybe you ain't looking hard enough, or maybe you're just seeing what you want to see."

"Yeah, this is what I want to see." Kennedy gave a sardonic chuckle.

Faith shrugged, "Ken, if you knew me, you'd know I'm not exactly advice-girl, alright? Willow and Wolf-boy were close, but they broke up. She's your girl now, and if that's how you want it, why go looking for reasons to screw it up?"

"I'm not!" Kennedy insisted.

"Fine, you're not. I gotta go. I have to make this…" she pointed to her face. "…look dead and butt-ugly before Buffy gets home and that is gonna take some doing." Winking, she slid her beer bottle across the table to Kennedy and stood up. "Finish that for me and chill the hell out. Getting all worked up ain't gonna make ya feel any better."

Kennedy watched as Faith walked out of the room, a little confused as to why she was gonna make herself ugly for Buffy, and then when she was alone, she looked down at the half-full bottle in front of her.

With a miserable shrug of her shoulders, she downed what was left.

(Thanks for reading. Comments are always warmly welcomed.

More soon.)


	6. Act 2:2

Thanks for the reviews!

* * *

It was past three when Xander poked his head around Faith's bedroom door. The Slayer was sitting on the carpet with a big, sharp knife in her hand.

"Um." Had he gulped?

As she looked around, the late afternoon sunlight coming through her window made the shiny blade glint at him.

"Troll under your bed or homicidal relapse? I wouldn't normally pry, but I have this phobia of being in the same room as a homicidal person… and trolls."

"Neither, just trying to actualise getting mauled." She squinted back at what she was doing.

"Oh, right." Xander watched as she slashed the knife down on her old denim jacket. "So I'm going to the store to… _pick up more beer_! Do you need anything? A work ethic, a beer ethic, I don't know, a scary mask?"

"Nah, I'm good," she said without looking up. "Although if you see something fake blood-like in that dinky little shop, that'd be useful. I thought you bought a case of beer already? How wasted you planning on getting tonight?"

"I _did_!" Xander grit his teeth, looking around her room for empty beer bottles. "But that one is now half gone."

Faith smirked his way, "Gee, you got a real thirst on today, huh?"

"I didn't drink them!" Xander had gone to the refrigerator to grab his first of the day ten minutes ago. That's when he'd discovered all the missing bottles.

"So who did?"

"Well, seeing as how every housemate who drinks beer on a regular basis is in this room, and I'm not the one with beer on my breath…?"

Faith laughed. "Dude, I had one bottle and I didn't finish it. Too jumpy to start down that road today. Picking Buffy up feeling like a zombie is kinda more realistic than the look I'm going for."

"But…" Xander leaned against the doorway, perplexed by Faith's answer. If she hadn't… then where did they go?

Faith was pulling the buttons on her jacket loose so that they hung down by just a thread or two. "Maybe you didn't buy as much as you thought or maybe Craig decided a little liquid refreshment would make writing his lines go easier… I dunno."

With a little shake of his head at the mystery, he turned to go. "I have to go get Dawn anyway; I'll pick up some more on the way."

"I'll make up my hours tomorrow, Xan, if that's okay."

He was surprised she was even going to bother; maybe she was scared he'd report her to the Parole Officer. It hurt a little that she would still think he'd do something like that, especially as her missing half a day wasn't a big deal.

When she put her mind to it, she worked at twice the speed of the average lackey anyway; and with leaving her to do the tedious jobs like tiling and painting, he'd had the time to make a good cut in his 'bigger project' to do list. With the way the two of them were getting through stuff, they might actually be caught up on Giles' renovation schedule by Christmas.

And, if the shower block took an extra day or two to get finished because of her date tonight, he'd just tell the girls it was all Faith's fault and let her take the heat.

With that in mind, he shrugged, "Okay," and left her to it, still not entirely convinced she hadn't had a hand in the case of the disappearing beer.

* * *

The shop was busy. It didn't happen often outside of the months from April to September, but Halloween was always the same. Children from Boudenver elementary school had already been released for the day and were swarming everywhere; their parents all but unable to control them on this most candy filled of holidays.

Owen gently swatted an eight year old down from climbing the counter as he smiled at the boy's mother and took her money.

"Happy Halloween," he inclined his head in a small polite farewell bow.

As soon as the woman and her boy were turning away, another young customer awkwardly unloaded an armload of rubber monster masks from one of the outside bargain bins onto the counter.

As Owen struggled to find a bag big enough to hold them all, the line grew longer and the noise in the small shop grew louder.

The Maples, Garth and Edna, were stood in the alcohol corner, almost behind the counter with him to stay out of the way; cheerfully watching the madness – and not, Owen couldn't help noticing, troubling themselves to help.

"I see why you never stay open past five on Halloween," Garth joked, sucking on one of the rhubarb and custard lollipop treats put out for the children.

Owen smiled at him, but briefly so that his old friend wouldn't see the roll of his eyes.

The door opened again and his eyes flicked that way as he counted gumballs into a paper bag for a little girl. It was one of the young men from the camp and he looked unpleasantly surprised to encounter so many children running amok in the close space. He carried a big meat hook, which he slipped with difficulty into his pocket at the sight of the children.

Owen smiled in greeting and the one-eyed man returned it with a quirky smile of his own before slipping deeper into the shop. The gumballs handed over; Owen took the money from the parent and dropped it into the cash register with a clatter. By the time the drawer had rattle-y thudded its way closed, there was a witch's hat, some fake cobwebbing and a family sized tin of tuna waiting for his attention.

He sighed inaudibly; it wasn't that he minded hard work, he'd done plenty in his life time, but these were supposed to be his autumn years and if he'd wanted to serve this many customers in a single hour, he would have applied for a job at a Wal-mart.

He lifted first one foot and then the other for a second's relief. Last night had given him blisters; he'd known he had left the boots on for too long when he'd barely been able to get them off again. He would have to give his feet a good soak and plaster them in band-aids when he got home if he didn't want to walk funny tonight. Same every year, he never remembered to get them out ahead of time to re-break them in.

"You're getting too old for this pandemonium, Owen," Edna told him with a chuckle in her voice.

"Aye, maybe you're right," Owen said with a wry smile.

"How you going to cope with Christmas week?" Garth asked, sucking noisily on the lollipop. "You'll have this lot offa school and all the vacationers too?"

"I manage all summer," Owen reminded them without turning around.

"Maybe, but you ain't getting any younger," Garth pointed out.

Garth and Edna had to step aside to let the man from the camp between them. He apologised politely as he picked up a case of Coors and squeezed back out of the corner to get in line. The elderly couple flowed back together like the wrinkly, grey sea.

"He's right," Edna said. "You should get some help in, just for the busy times. Plenty of women in this town would be happy for an hour or two away from the house and children. Just for a bit of pocket money, like."

Owen nodded as he served one such woman, so harried by her children today she was wearing a permanent frown.

He'd thought about getting help in the past, if only to stay open later, but he was set in his ways and liked his shop run _his _way. Most of the women in this town were too meddlesome for their own good and would want to _change _things.

The man with one eye was the next in line.

"Kinda crazy in here today," he said, smiling openly. He set the case of beer on the counter and placed some other items on top.

Owen returned the smile with one just as open, "Halloween does get a little chaotic, I've found."

"Chaos I can handle, it's all the kids that are freaking me out."

"You're not keen on children?" Owen asked, ringing up a box of tube socks and a packet of thick black tape.

"Not the ones around here." The man suddenly seemed to think better of his muttered words and smiled again. Waving vaguely at his black eye-patch, he added, "Can't always see which way they're running at me from."

Owen nodded, ringing up a bottle of red food colouring. "They can be rather a nuisance. Any Halloween plans, sir?"

"Yep." The man grinned as his fingers made a rat-a-tat on the cardboard box of beers.

"Well, enjoy them, sir." Owen smiled as he placed everything but the beer into a paper bag and handed them over.

"Thanks, you too."

Owen watched him walk out. That young man was the biggest mystery of them all.

"What do you suppose he's up too, then?" Garth queried.

Owen rolled his eyes.

Only another hour and he could shut the shop, go home and get ready. His excitement was growing, even if he was dreading putting those boots back on his feet. It was going to be a wonderful night.

He had prepared most things that morning so he wouldn't have to rush when he arrived home. Between the broom, the duster and the mop the place was sparkling, breathing elegance out of its very walls.

He'd lit the chandeliers that morning, because that was always a time-consuming job and it wasn't like he had to worry about a fire. The guest bedrooms were prepared; someone always needed to stay over. The strings of monkey skulls were already hung. Personally he wasn't keen on the macabre decoration, but some of his friends appreciated the cultural touch he always offered.

The food was prepared and just needed laying out. It was a pity he couldn't bring in caterers – that would certainly save him a twelve hour stint in the kitchen every year – but that was, unfortunately, impossible to arrange.

An orchestra too would have been nice; the ballroom was designed for nothing less, but the sound system he'd installed back in the nineties would have to suffice. Perhaps if they were lucky, Iggy might be persuaded to do a few numbers on the piano.

Owen – ignoring the Maple's constant chatter behind him, and all but oblivious to the customers he was serving in front of him – daydreamed about the party.

* * *

The dormitory was awash with the happy chatter and chaos of several girls getting ready. For most of them it was their first night out since they'd been in Boudenver – not including slaying of course – and they were all uber-excited.

Makeup and makeup tips passed back and forth, clothes were tried on, discarded and then tried on by someone else in the effort to look their best for the social event of the year – their year anyway.

Even Dawn had decided to get ready in the dorm, not wanting to be upstairs by herself and miss all the pre-party fun.

"Uh, this is probably a stupid question, but how are we getting there?" Alison asked as she moisturised her face in front of the mirror.

"That's not a stupid question," Rona countered as she turned to the wall and dropped her towel ready to get dressed. "How _are _we getting there?"

"Xander said we could use the truck," Dawn said as she went through Cici's collection of eye-shadow. "And Reece offered to drive."

"In that case," Naomi said, switching off the hair dryer. "I suggest that the people who have spent the least amount of time on their hair should sit in the back."

"So, Miranda and Rona then?" Alison pushed back as Dawn tried to nudge her away from the mirror. "That still leaves five of us in the front."

"That's not gonna work." Miranda stated the obvious, pulling her hair into pigtails. "And I have another stupid question, but, why aren't we dressing up?"

"Speak for yourself." Cici was looking at her outfit in the full length mirror on the other side of the dorm. She shook her head at her reflection and started to strip again. "I plan on dressing to the nines, tonight."

"I meant, like, Halloween dressing up, like as witches or… or cowboys or something?" Miranda explained as she tried on one of Naomi's skirts.

Alison raised an eyebrow, "Cowboys?"

"Because dressing up is for kids." Dawn shrugged. "And this party is definitely not for kids."

"Knock knock."

All eyes swivelled to the door to see Reece poking his head around.

"Do you mind?" Rona grabbed up her towel again to cover her still half naked body.

"It's called knocking!" Alison held the t-shirt she'd been about to put on to her chest.

"I did knock." Reece grinned as he came further into the room. "After a fashion."

The skirt only halfway up her thighs, Miranda sat down on the closest bed, blushing hard and leaning forward so he couldn't see her panties. Cici, back down to her underwear, had dived behind the same bed with a thud as soon as she'd heard his voice.

"Perhaps you should learn to do it the same way the rest of civilisation does, Reece." Naomi turned a cool look on him. "Just to save you the embarrassment of barging in on a lady while she's changing again."

"I'll look into it," Reece nodded, not at all embarrassed. "I came to speak to Dawn."

"What is it?" Dawn loved how good he looked. She'd never seen him not looking good, but tonight he'd really made an effort in a light blue shirt that brought out his eyes and a brand new pair of jeans. He'd done his hair so that it looked tousled and sexy and, oh God, he smelled good too, she realised as she stepped closer to him. "Is everything okay? Monsters aren't breaking the rules are they, meaning we have to stay at home?"

Reece gave the room – or at least the girls in the room – a casual once over before he focused on Dawn. "No, everything's quiet on the home front. I just came to give you this…" he leaned closer and kissed her, thoroughly. As he pulled away, she stared at him, smiling woozily. "…And to tell you that me and the lads are ready when you are."

"Okay."

"Right." He nodded and gave her another quicker kiss before leaving and pulling the door shut after him again.

Cici looked over the edge of the bed to make sure he had really gone before she stood up and went to choose her next outfit. Rona hurriedly dressed the rest of herself in case he decided to make a return visit.

"He is such an ass," Alison complained, finally able to pull her t-shirt on.

"He is not." Dawn gave the young slayer a dirty look.

"Sorry, Dawn, but Alison is right." Naomi went back to fussing with her hair. "Reece really is an arse."

Dawn harrumphed. "Just because he didn't knock properly doesn't mean he was trying to perve on you all." '_You wish,' _she thought. "Xander's walked in on me getting changed before, but I didn't automatically assume he did it on purpose."

There was a heavy silence for a minute, before Miranda sighed, "I wish Xander would walk in on me getting changed."

The tension broke as they all laughed at her and within moments the excited babble about the night ahead returned.

"So where is the party?" Miranda, deciding she didn't like Naomi's skirt, tried on one of Vi's instead.

"I'm not telling anyone until we actually leave," said Dawn, going back to her makeup. "It's not that I don't trust you all, but I know how persuasive Buffy can be when she wants Intel. But it is so cool its going to blow your minds."

She had pretty much repressed the strange happenings at Mage Manor that afternoon. Nothing else weird had happened, and they'd all had so much fun setting things up, it hadn't seemed important by the time Aaron had dropped her back at school just in time to catch her ride home with Xander.

"Will there be alcohol?" Naomi asked. She was the only one of legal drinking age, legal in her own country anyway.

"There had better be," said another voice from the door.

Everyone spun that way again, covering up on instinct, but it was just Kennedy standing there. She had a bottle of beer on the way to her mouth and an unopened bottle in her other hand.

"Hey girls." She grinned as they all stared at her. "Don't mind me," she added as she realised they were changing. "Only got eyes for one bitch, I mean witch."

She chuckled at her own joke, but when no one else joined in she rolled her eyes and drank some more beer. "So what time do we leave?"

"You're coming?" Dawn's eyes lit up. The rest of the slayers were cool enough, but she didn't really know any of them properly. Even Vi and Rona were still a bit of a mystery, whereas she'd spent most of the summer bonding with Kennedy. "That's great! but wait," her smile dropped a little. "What about Willow?"

"I dunno, I haven't asked her," Kennedy seemed to deliberately misunderstand. "Doubt it'll be her scene though."

"Are you sure it's yours?" Alison shot in a little sarcastically, but not too sarcastically because Kennedy already enjoying riding her hard and provocation had a habit of making her ride harder.

Dawn noticed other faces had dropped too. Understandable, she supposed. After all, Kennedy was her friend, but she was boss to most of these girls.

"It's a party, isn't it? Music, dancing, pretty girls…" Kennedy grinned at Alison. "With any luck a keg. Yeah, definitely sounds like a scene I can picture myself in."

Alison grumbled something and went back to getting ready. Kennedy raised an eyebrow at Miranda and Cici, inviting their comments, but they just smiled uneasily and followed suit. Nodding once, Kennedy finished her bottle and threw it into the waste basket by the door.

"Nice shot," said Naomi automatically. "And I really like your shirt."

"Thanks and thanks," Kennedy smiled as she opened her other bottle on the frame of Vi's bed. "You're looking pretty fine yourself."

Dawn coughed, "Willow," into her hand. Kennedy looked at her in amusement, so Dawn coughed, "Your girlfriend!" into her hand for good measure.

"I was returning a compliment, not looking to get laid," Kennedy pointed out, smirking as Dawn had a real coughing fit brought on by the fake-cough dryness in her throat.

Naomi blushed brightly and decided she was ready enough. "Okay, so I'll be waiting with the boys." She left the room.

"I think you embarrassed her," Rona said as she finished fastening the buckles on her boots.

"I'm sure she's used to people telling her she's hot."

"Yeah, probably not women, though."

"What's the difference?" Kennedy asked neutrally.

Rona looked like she was going to answer that, but then changed her mind. "Drinking already?" she asked instead.

"Just getting in the party mood." Kennedy gave a grin that didn't look altogether real and had another good mouthful of her beer.

Dawn concentrated on flicking her hair about a little in the mirror. Kennedy was acting strange and she wasn't altogether clued in on the reason why. It made her feel guilty.

Not that it was any secret that Kennedy and Willow were going through a little rough patch; in fact it was plainly obvious. That was kinda where the guilt was springing from though.

No matter how much they bonded, Dawn would never be as close to Kennedy as she had been to Tara… she wasn't as close to Buffy as she had been to Tara, but the thought of Kennedy and Willow breaking up still gave her that nasty feeling inside. She didn't want to think about it.

And if she was getting the nasty feeling, Kennedy had to be getting it worse, and maybe couldn't stop thinking about it. She knew Kennedy really loved Willow, even though she'd never actually said it. Kennedy was probably desperate to talk it out with someone, to try and figure out a solution, and Dawn was a lot closer in age to Kennedy than she had been with Tara, meaning she wasn't automatically disqualified from listening for not being mature enough.

Still though, she'd been reluctant to offer her services for the supportive talking thing. Not because she didn't want to be there for her, but because it was a sensitive subject…

Yes, she knew what that meant: Dawn Summers – Coward; Dawn Summers – Sucktastic friend!

Neither were nice things to even call yourself, she decided. It was time to ask Kennedy to wait outside with her; they could have a chat while everyone else finished up.

Before she could follow through on that thought the door opened again.

Everyone was pretty much dressed now, but still they all turned to the new interruption, except Kennedy, who chose to sit on the end of Vi's bed, staring at the wall.

Faith was in the doorway, looking like she'd gone ten rounds with a grizzly bear and was extremely freaked out by it. "Okay, so I'm gonna need all the green, blue and black makeup you have."

Dawn frowned. "Huh?"

* * *

A little later, Buffy and Willow walked through the front door giggling about the rude parrot.

Xander was in the living room setting the fireplace with wood scraps. Daytime in Boudenver were still warm enough that the Sunnydale ex-patriots weren't complaining yet, but the nights were unseasonably chilly, or perhaps seasonably chilly, Buffy had never spent much time outside of southern California until the move. He looked up with a smile as they entered.

"Hey, how'd it go? Was she a werewolf? Do I need to start building a bigger cage than the, uh, cage we don't actually have yet?"

They did have a cage, a weapons cage, that was secure, but a werewolf would only have to get angry-pouncy for a second before it knocked itself out on the bars or had a silver sword drop on its back.

"Yep, she's definitely lycanthopised." Willow grinned. "But she's gonna handle it herself."

"Is that wise?" Xander finished setting the fire and put a long match to the newspaper he was using as tinder. "What if her idea of handling it involves eating the good folk of Columbus?"

"Better the good folk of Columbus, than the weird folk of Boudenver." Buffy shrugged, and then thought about what she'd said. "Maybe we should get one of the Newbies out to Columbus, surely one of them must be ready for her own spot by now, and it not like Columbus has a Hellmouth."

"Plus it's not far away, if they got into any trouble we could all saddle up and be there in a couple of hours," Xander agreed. "And Rona and Vi are pretty experienced already, what with living in Sunnydale at its most hairiest."

"Added bonus, if we relocate Rona there, Reece would have to go with. Not that I wanna lose Rona, but…" Buffy grinned. "A dark cloud with one of the better class of silver linings."

Willow chuckled, "Giles said there would be no relocating until January, and I doubt Rona will be top of the list. As a new Watcher, he wants to keep Reece here for at least six months of supervision, probably longer if he can."

"Damn," Buffy muttered, but as she remembered she had better things to think about, tonight at least, she brightened. "Where's Faith?"

"Oh, she had to go out." Xander grinned to himself as he got up from his knees and moved away from the slowly crackling fire.

"What?!" Buffy looked around the room, hoping to refute his statement by finding Faith blending into the walls. Totally in vain, like Faith ever blended anywhere, she was the embodiment of foregroundness. "Don't lie! Is she upstairs?"

"Nope, she really had to go out."

"But we had plans!"

"Relax, Buff." Xander laughed. "She said she'd be back around seven to pick you up."

"Oh." Buffy did relax, until… "That only gives me an hour to get ready!"

She bolted up the stairs with her big bag from the costume place without another word.

Xander laughed again and Willow chuckled as she said, "She's been like a puppy in a basket of kittens all day."

"It's great Buffy's happy, but you're with me on the strange, right?"

"Because it's Faith making her this way? Totally."

"How did it go today, you know, with Oz?" Xander asked, pretending to busy himself with selecting the channel he wanted on the television.

"Fine." Willow shrugged, oblivious – or pretending to be – to the sly nature of the question. "It's great catching up. I didn't really realise how much I missed him, ya know, until he was here again. You guys should get together sometime, then you'd see what I mean."

Xander coughed, about to tell her his gay phase had been for one day only, but she carried on,

"Is Kennedy about? I wanna see if she wants to do something tonight."

Xander's face dropped, "Uh, Will, she's gone out. To that party with Dawn and the others. She didn't let you know?"

"Oh," Willow's face dropped too. "She didn't say anything."

"Well, it was probably a last minute decision," Xander said carefully. "All the girls have been way excited about it all day, she probably got caught up in it all and forgot to tell you."

"Yeah, maybe." Willow was not comforted. "I guess its okay, it's not like we'd actually planned anything, I just thought, ya know."

"Yeah. I'm sure if she'd known you wanted to do something, she wouldn't have gone."

Willow gave him a look that implied otherwise.

Xander shrugged in response. He didn't know what was going through Kennedy's head. He did know she'd been off with Willow for a while now, and she seemed unhappy every time he saw her, but it wasn't like he knew the young Slayer very well.

In fact, despite knowing what kind of breakfast cereal she liked best, what kind of weapons she preferred and that she favoured anime over home-grown cartoons – except X-men, but then who didn't love the X-men – she was still a complete mystery to him.

"Are all the Slayers out?" Willow suddenly changed the subject – to his great relief. "Because, I know with Halloween and all, this should be our trouble-free night, but with taking past adventures into account…"

"Vi's staying home. Much to her chagrin, I might add. She's with Giles in the training room. He just got back."

"I thought he and Robin were staying in Montana until tomorrow?"

Xander made finger quotes, "Pressing Council…"

"…Business." Willow finished for him, making the same signal with her fingers.

They shared a smile, that was Giles code these days for: I can't take anymore.

"I thought he liked Robin?"

Xander smirked. "From what he said, it was the new Slayer's parents he couldn't wait to get away from."

"So he left Robin to the wolves?"

"Well, he's getting an all expenses paid trip to the Treasure State, maybe he'll get lucky while he's there and find some actual treasure." Xander couldn't help a little bitterness creeping into his voice.

Robin had been on the scene, what, five minutes? And he was already getting Slayer retrieval missions. Xander knew he wasn't exactly Watcher material – his English accent was, according to some, offensive and his ability to retain facts from research was often limited by how hungry he was – but surely he could be trusted with the odd trip to make first contact with a potential Slayer.

Willow sensed his downward shift in mood, and wrongly assumed her own less than ecstatic state was to blame.

"Well, if Kennedy's gone, I guess I'll just go do my exercises and go to bed. Have a nice evening."

Xander watched her walk glumly up the front stairs, knowing there was nothing he could say to make her feel better.

* * *

Faith was hidden in the thick vegetation that bordered both sides of the camp lane when Oz's van trundled slowly down. She'd ducked behind a tree, but no one was looking into the shadows anyway.

She watched the van stop on the driveway, the engine continuing to rumble as Buffy and Willow got out, and then the sound of the door slamming as the two women called out cheerful goodbyes.

Faith stepped out of the glare of the headlights again as the van came back. Buffy sounded in a good mood, which was a good start and gave Faith a little confidence.

She switched back on the flashlight she'd borrowed from the basement and carried on searching for a flower. So far she was coming up seven shades of weed, and not even the good smokable kind.

She wished she'd worn a watch too, or she wished she owned a watch to wear. She'd said 7:00pm, but she had no idea if it was close to that or not yet. Buffy would want a little time to get ready, but Faith didn't want to start the evening by turning up late.

She'd have to go around the other side of the house. That way she could sneak a look at the kitchen clock and see when Buffy's bedroom light went out.

Jumping back out of the unruly undergrowth, Faith wiped her dew-wet hands on her slashed up pants and pulled a cigarette from a packet wedged into the breast pocket of her old tattered denim jacket – the only item of clothing she'd arrived in that she hadn't burned as soon as possible – with shaky fingers. The lighter flame she touched to the tip was just as fluttery as her stomach.

Xander had laughed at her expression when she'd left the house, making fun of her first Buffy-date butterflies. She hadn't told him it was worse than that, that it was first date ever Tiger moths dog-fighting in her gut.

* * *

Kennedy stood up in the back of the truck as Reece started down a dirt track much like their one at home. She stood perfectly steady, despite the near empty beer bottle in her hand and the bumps that were making everyone else grip onto the metal side.

"Hey, I remember this place!" The only outward sign of the beer she'd drunk was that her voice was louder than usual. "It's your castle, Andrew!"

She nudged the boy with her foot and he looked up. From where he sat only the turrets were visible, rising spookily into the dark sky.

"Oh boy," he muttered, sub-consciously squeezing Craig's hand tighter.

"You scared?" Craig asked, slightly teasing.

"No," Andrew replied too quickly. "I just figured it would be in a house."

As they pulled onto the circular driveway, Rona looked up at Mage Manor, seeing it for the first time. "It is a house."

"Yeah, the House on Haunted Hill!"

"Well, none of us died the last time we went in, so…" Kennedy jumped over the side before Reece had fully stopped and staggered a step. Chuckling at herself, she tipped her head back to finish her beer as she twisted on the spot to check the place out.

Cars were parked haphazardly around the large driveway and groups of kids milled about between them and the house. Plenty of them stared at Kennedy, looking at her like she was an exotic creature to be wary of among the fluffy barnyard animals. At least, that's what she felt like under the weight of so many unwelcoming gazes.

Dismissing them all with a sneer, she looked over her shoulder to the truck to see the others finally climbing out.

"At least it looks more welcoming this time," Miranda was saying, gesturing to the wide open door way.

On either side of the steps sat pumpkins, a dozen of them at least. Flickering candles lit up their grotesquely carved faces. More candles in bowls of green or orange glass were set along the front wall of the house, adding to the spooky glow.

There was even greeter out front; a plastic skeleton wearing a top hat, with a pipe sticking from between his grinning jaw. He, or she, was sitting on the steps propped up against the door frame. On its lap was a big card that read in black marker: **'Beware all ye who enter the house of horror.'** and underneath that: **"Pick your designated driver NOW or the REAPER will get you!'**

"Sweet," Kennedy muttered as she read it. "Bet that means they've got a keg."

Dawn had been standing next to her, staring at the house, feeling a certain amount of pride that she'd helped make it look this good. She was excited for everyone to see how fantastic it looked inside, but hearing Kennedy's less-than-excited mutter reminded her that she was going to say something.

"Ken, are you okay?" she asked softly enough that Reece on her other side, holding her hand, wouldn't hear her.

"Sure," Kennedy shrugged.

"Because if you weren't," Dawn pressed on. "And there was something, maybe, bothering you, that, maybe, talking might, I don't know, help, then… I can do that, I mean, I can listen, if… if that's what you want."

"You don't sound too keen on the idea," Kennedy pointed out, her eyes on the wall of the house as she fiddled with her beer bottle.

"It's not that," Dawn promised with an uneasy smile. "It's just the porcupine-sized prickles you're bristling with right now are advising caution."

Kennedy finally turned her head to look at Dawn, trying to turn her lips up into a smile that wouldn't quite catch. She didn't want to dump on Dawn at the party; she knew how much the younger girl had been looking forward to it. The idea of pouring her heart out in front of Reece wasn't appealing either.

Dawn's compassionate eyes were doing some kind of snake charm on her fears though, she could feel them coiling their way up from the place she was trying to hide them. She'd been not talking about it for so long, the pressure was building, and if Dawn didn't back off any second it was all gonna come pouring out and most of it was gonna consist of language not appropriate for the age-range of this party.

"I'm fine," she said, feeling like her throat was blocked.

"You're…"

She cut Dawn's disagreement off with a hard look. "The only problem I have right now is that I can still touch the tip of my nose while walking in a straight line. So I'm gonna go in there and try to find a solution to that. Are you coming or not?"

Kennedy stormed up the steps and into the house. Dawn looked at Reece with a worried frown. "Should I go after her?"

He held her hand tighter, "_We'll_ go after her, but I don't think you should push any more tonight. She's a Slayer and she's been drinking all afternoon, there's no telling who she might lash out at if they aggravate her enough."

"Kennedy's not going to hurt me, she's my friend."

"Trust me, sweetheart; with that amount of booze inside her, she's volatile. I'm not saying she wouldn't wake up regretting it tomorrow, but for tonight, let's just keep an eye on her without winding her up."

Prepared to accept Reece's judgement, because – even though she really didn't think Kennedy would ever turn on her, not even drunk, and she wasn't that drunk, just hurting and too stubborn to show it – if Reece was right and she was wrong, Kennedy could turn her face inside out with one punch.

They went up the steps after Kennedy, hand in hand.

The rest had been hanging back admiring the pumpkins and the spooky candles, smiling politely at the locals who walked close enough for a gawp at the interlopers. They shared fleeting smiles between them; no one prepared to admit they were nervous about attending the party.

Alison shuffled her feet on the gravel, "Well the house is definitely less forbidding than last time… providing you don't look up at all those dark windows."

Everyone slowly felt their eyes rising to do just that.

"Dammit, Alison!" Miranda grumbled. "Now I'm gonna be wondering what's up there all night."

"It's just high school kids, dunno why everyone's so freaked about it," Rona said, but she didn't make any move to lead the group in.

"It's just high school kids who seem to have a grudge against us being at their party," Cici said, doing her best not to look around anymore. "And I used to be so good at this."

"You do all realise you could take this lot out between you in a nano-second, yes?" Naomi looked around at them all. When she received shocked stares from the Slayers and Andrew, she hastened to add. "I'm not suggesting you should, I was just hoping a reminder of you superior strength and grace would inspire some courage."

"I think I just saw a face in one of the tower windows," Andrew suddenly blurted fearfully. "And it didn't look like a kid. I have a bad feeling about this place, guys. Perhaps we should forget about the party and just go home."

"Andy, mate, calm down. There's gotta be hundreds of kids in there, even if it is a mad axe man in the tower, there's no saying he's gonna pick you as his victim."

Andrew's lips twisted themselves this way and that as he tried to decide if Craig's soothingly spoken words were of any help at all.

Everyone else just glared at him.

"Hundreds?" Miranda asked in a small voice.

* * *

Willow took a second out of moping through her magick exercises to smile when she heard Buffy singly loudly from the shower on the other side of the house. She didn't sing in the shower usually, in fact she didn't sing at all usually, so she must have been really happy.

That was all it took for Willow to lose her smile, and then she felt bad for not being happier for her friend. It wasn't that she wasn't, but normally if Buffy was going on a first date, Willow would have been all excited and bubbly with her. Sitting in Buffy's room while she got ready, helping to sooth any butterflies she might be feeling and giggling over the prospects of what might come at the end of the date.

She wasn't in the mood for that tonight, she wasn't in the mood for anything tonight she realised, giving up on her spiritual workout altogether. She couldn't concentrate anyway and the whole point of them was to hone her concentration so that she could feel and separate the shifts of energy within her.

Blowing out the candles around her, she got up from the floor and flicked off the bright overhead light. Feeling her way to the bed, she turned on the softer bedside lamp and lay down on top of the covers.

Sighing, she wondered what Kennedy was doing and how much fun she was having.

* * *

The party was kicking. Rona and the rest of the Slayers and pals had finally made it through the front door, deciding if they were going to feel uncomfortable anyway they might as well do it in the warm where they could hear the music properly.

The first floor of the mansion was huge and each room was filled with kids doing what parties were made for: drinking, smoking weed, fooling around with members of the opposite sex.

The biggest crowd, where there really had to be over a hundred people, was the ballroom. The music was at its loudest here and so was everything else. It was so noisy Rona could hardly hear what Kennedy was saying to her; she couldn't help wishing it was noisier.

"He's a werewolf! I mean, he's a savage beast! Like a beast, dude!"

"Yeah, I know." Rona agreed, nodding her head in the hopes that Kennedy would get the point that she was getting the point.

Kennedy nodded too, letting out a deep sigh that Rona saw more than heard, and seemed ready to let it go. She was holding a plastic glass of too frothy beer and she wrinkled her nose at it before taking a big gulp.

Rona had a glass of the beer too, but it was her first and only a sip or two was gone. She didn't think it tasted as bad Kennedy seemed to, but she had an expensive camera in her pocket – secretly on loan from Andrew's bedroom – and she didn't want to risk getting drunk and accidentally breaking it.

Their group had found a safe spot to convene along the back edge of the wall; closer to the raised stage that would have once been used for a band or an orchestra, than the main doors at the other end. Near them, large patio doors had been opened to the night and people were constantly going out there to cool down from dancing and coming back in shivering when their sweat-soaked bodies got too cold.

Rona could see Dawn and Reece dancing in the crowd. Naomi had persuaded Cici and Alison to join her in the middle of the floor too, but she couldn't see them right now. Miranda, Andrew and Craig remained not quite huddled with her in their not quite corner.

Miranda was nursing a coke, Rona didn't know if it was virgin or not. "This is fun! Right? I mean, we're at a party, like a proper party, not just a melted marshmallows in front of the living room fire party."

Rona was sceptical, but she nodded encouragingly anyway. "Beats walking around a deserted cemetery in the cold."

"I mean it's sick!" Kennedy suddenly blurted out of nowhere.

"What is?" Rona looked around, frowning, not seeing anything particularly revolting outside of the usual High School mash up.

"It's like bestiality or something. She's screwing a werewolf! You can't tell me that's normal! It's a sin!"

Rona groaned, and then her irritation spoke before she had time to think it through, "Some people don't think two women screwing is normal, but you're fine with that sin."

Kennedy blinked at her, her shock loosening the control she was using to stay sober-ish and she swayed a little. "Do you think that?"

"That's not what I said."

"And that's not answering my question." Kennedy's eyes were drunk-bright, if she wasn't a Slayer, the amount of alcohol she'd consumed today would have seen her passed out by now. But even though she swayed a little more she looked perfectly in control of her fists and feet.

Rona found herself watching them out of the corner of her eye even as she matched her stare. She spoke evenly and loud enough that Kennedy wouldn't miss a word.

"My point is everyone has a problem with something. You think its bestiality; she probably sees it as being in love with a man who just happens to be a beast now and again." Rona had never been so diplomatic in her life, but she still tensed, ready, when she saw Kennedy's fists ball.

"So you're saying its better she's in love with a beast who's a man than a woman who's a lesbian?"

Rona frowned, trying to follow a path of logic from what she'd said to Kennedy's conclusion. It wasn't possible. She tried a different path.

"_Buffy_ was in love with Spike, who was a _Vampire_! Do you think she's sick?"

"For being in love with Spike, hell yeah, but she's with Faith now…So I guess it's your turn to think she's sick."

"I don't…" Kennedy's scornful glare cut Rona off. She wasn't going to explain herself to someone who obviously wasn't going to listen. "Forget it, we're going to dance."

Grabbing Miranda's arm in one hand and Craig's in the other she dragged them through the crowd towards Dawn.

Andrew stayed with Kennedy long enough to ask, "Are you okay?" but the fierce look she turned on him had him scuttling after the others.

* * *

Owen smiled broadly and held out his hands to the short man with the slicked back dark hair and ill-fitting brown suit, trotting up the entrance steps.

"Good of you to come, Victor." Owen shook his hand firmly with both of his. "How was the journey?"

"Gets easier every year." The man had a clipped Swiss accent. "We were able to get a direct flight this time, and with discrimination such a sore point these days…" At this, he turned to the looming monster of a man behind him. "You remember my friend, yes?"

"Of course." Owen smiled politely and shook hands, trying not to do anything so impolite as stare at his stitching. "Who have… I mean, how have you been?"

The broad forehead and slightly bulging eyes made the impassive stare he received especially impressive. "Can't complain," was the slow, disinterested answer.

"Well, that's nice." Owen moved aside to let them enter the foyer. "Is by any chance Ig…?"

"Don't even mention his name!" Victor held up his hands to stress this.

"Ah, no progress on rekindling that friendship then." Owen smiled secretly to himself as he started the lead the way into the drawing room. "Perhaps tonight?"

Victor made a disagreeable noise as he followed his old friend through the house. A few times he looked around, as if sensing something he couldn't put his finger on.

"Is something different to usual?"

Owen sighed, not a happy man at present. "It would seem so yes."

* * *

Buffy had showered in record time, and dried herself off in record time, but the getting dressed part of her preparation was proving slower, much to her frustration.

The star-spangled hot pants went on easy enough and fit perfectly, which was good because if they'd been as tight as the boots it could have been embarrassing. The red and gold bodice was a little constricting though, and had cardboard-y implants that made her boobs all perky but was stiff and kinda uncomfortable. The head band was made of soft plastic, but the grip was tight. After she'd nearly given herself a lobotomy, she got it positioned just right and then realised she shouldn't have done her hair first – it was now trapped to the sides of her head and in no way flattering.

After correcting that, she only had about twenty minutes to re-do her hair and do her makeup.

"Why couldn't one of my super-powers be spinning around really fast until I looked perfect," she moaned to herself. "Would have been way more useful than, say, the ability to feel Faith walking around in the garden getting impatient."

* * *

Faith was walking around the back garden getting impatient. Not with Buffy – whose light was still on – but with the clock, that said she still had fifteen minutes to wait. And weren't girls notoriously slow at getting ready for dates. Faith could be ready in five and still look damn fine, but for a girl like Buffy, just another fifteen minutes might be expecting too much.

Faith had been beaten, forgotten and almost starved occasionally when she was growing up, all three at once a couple of times. She'd seen first hand the worst thing a Vampire could do to someone. For a few days she'd lived with the guilt of Finch's death clawing away inside of her and now she lived with the guilt of knowing she was capable of way worse than accidental manslaughter.

Right this second, none of that seemed as torturous as this waiting was.

All of that had brought her nothing but misery, pain and fear and it seemed a lot easier to deal with than the current excitement, anticipation and, okay, she was still shit scared here.

"Come on, B, you're pretty enough now get your ass down here," she muttered to herself all but hopping from foot to foot as she awkwardly juggled the 'flower' in her hands.

She couldn't remember ever being this nervous in her entire life, except maybe the night before her appeal, and the night she'd shown up in B's bedroom a week later than she was should have been there, and the night she'd first arrived in Sunnydale and had been thinking up ways to draw the other slayer outside so they could meet.

Okay, so maybe Buffy was always making her nervous when she wasn't making her mad… or horny. Although being horny around Buffy at the moment was starting to make her nervous. And not the kind of nervous she'd felt back in the 'dale when Buffy had first made her interest very clear.

Her worry then was that she would fall too hard for the blonde, let her get to close, and change her mind about going back to jail just to have Buffy realise the mistake she was making and dump her a week or three later.

That was all moot now, she'd fallen hard and done the remainder of her time, and she was where she wanted to be and who she wanted to be with. And, despite most of her inner-voices yelling at her that it wasn't so, she was slowly getting comfortable believing Buffy really did feel the same way.

So why the nerves when she got horny?

Simple. Faith was ready. Past friggin' ready to get the physical-side of their relationship up and running again. She'd never approved of the idea of stopping it in the first place! Faith had never waited to be 'ready' for sex; she never had to, she'd always _been_ ready. And if she didn't want to have sex with someone, she didn't dick them about, getting them all hot and heavy with the kissing and the moaning and shit, she just told them to take a hike and pretty much forgot about them in the same breath. She couldn't remember if she'd always felt this way, but it had been her M.O. since her mid-teens for sure.

And it wasn't like they were kids neither; they'd both had sex before, with each other even – twice! Faith was tired of being tagged out before she could ever get near second base. It was frustrating as hell, but if Buffy wanted to wait, they were waiting.

It was why the hell for that Faith didn't know. _'Until she was ready.'_ was kinda ambiguous and she was starting to worry that Buffy was never gonna be ready, that she'd somehow put Buffy off the last time so bad the blonde was never gonna wanna do it again. Every time Buffy said no that little bit quicker, Faith couldn't help wondering what she'd done wrong this time – not sarcastically, but really – and she was usually too horny by that point to think before speaking.

So yeah, just recently, when she was rolling around with Buffy on the bed, feeling that low down tickle getting stronger and doing her damnedest to keep her hands away from any places that might make Buffy breathlessly whimper out a: "Stop!" Faith got nervous. Scared that one day she'd be so into it, she wouldn't listen, or frustrated enough a cold shower wasn't gonna cut it and the resulting tantrum would involve a screaming match so ugly they'd never recover from it.

Faith didn't even feel like she could say anything to Buffy about all this, without the other Slayer thinking she was trying to push the subject and get mad.

All in all, a lot was riding on tonight going perfect. It wasn't like she was expecting Buffy to jump in the sack with her the moment they got home – although she wouldn't turn it down – but just spending the evening alone, learning how to be relaxed around each other in a way they'd never managed before, would hopefully nudge Buffy a lot closer to '_ready'._

Above her head, Buffy's bedroom suddenly went dark. Faith eased herself closer to the kitchen window again. It was a couple of minutes to seven. Melting back into the shadows, Faith was still close enough to check her outfit in the light pouring from the kitchen. Yep, she still looked a mess, good to know she hadn't accidentally gotten tidy with all this waiting around.

She counted to fifty – starting off slowly, she was soon skipping the Mississippi to get to the end faster – and walked around the side of the house.

"This is it, Chica," she murmured as she paused at the bottom of the porch steps. "Time to fuckin' shine."

Looking more confident than she felt, she bounded up the two steps and rang the door bell. She held her breath as she waited, and her lungs weren't even close to burning when the door was wrenched open to reveal a nervously eager Buffy in full costume, her cape billowed dramatically as a stiff breeze rushed into the house to warm up.

Faith's breath burst back out on a laugh, "_Wonder_ful choice, _Woman."_

"Oh my God, Faith, what happened to you?" Buffy stepped on to the porch, concern making her eyes big.

"That would be…" Faith looked down at her slashed shirt. "Werewolf attack, I think; and then bitten to death by a jealous ex…" Faith lifted her hair to show the red food colouring she'd spread around and down from the old bite scar on her neck. "And then the bastards cut my head off, see?" Grinning now, she lifted her chin to show the black cross stitch she'd pencilled over the angry looking thin red line of lipstick that was supposed to be the result of decapitation. "After that, its just a little voodoo here, some voodoo there."

"Huh?" Buffy's nose scrunched up.

"I'm a zombie!"

"Oh!" Buffy laughed. "Thank God for that; I thought for a minute there your dress sense… and personal hygiene… had taken a serious downward turn since this morning."

Faith's cocked her head to one side, not sure how to take that.

"But, you're lacking a little realism." Buffy smiled, stepping in closer to Faith. "I've never met a zombie who smelled this good." She kissed Faith's cheek softly before stepping back.

"I, uh…" Faith blinked, feeling a little thrown by the insult-compliment-insult-compliment Buffy had just given her. "… had more words to say when I planned knocking on the door earlier."

"What were they?"

"Damned if I know." Faith admitted.

"My eyes are up here, Faith." Buffy reminded her, sounding amused as much as embarrassed.

Faith didn't look up, partly because she was getting Buffy back for the insults, but mostly because she just couldn't. "Yeah I know, but I've seen your eyes before. This is the first time I've had the pleasure of seeing you in tight-ass hot pants. Never seen anything hotter, B." she winked.

"You've seen me naked," Buffy said. "Are you saying the hot pants are hotter than me naked?"

"You do realise the front door is still wide open and we can hear every word you are saying?" Giles suddenly called through from the living room. "Please be so kind as to shut it before you continue."

As Buffy blushed hard and Faith tried to stifle her laughter, Xander added,

"Or come in here so we can all ogle the hot pants and discuss them in a fair and democratic…"

Faith walked around Buffy and pulled the door shut without acknowledging anyone inside.

"You okay?"

"Yep." Buffy nodded. "Haven't died of embarrassment yet, despite all the times I've dabbled with it."

"For the record, I meant I haven't seen anything hotter in the past two weeks," Faith covered her earlier slip. "And I, ah, got you these, uh, this."

Buffy took the offered object with a surprised smile. "You got me a pot plant?"

Faith stared at it with a little embarrassed frown. "I wanted to give you some flowers, but it was dark," she explained, feeling a shyness she'd never encountered before.

"Well it does have flowers, and they're very pretty." Buffy grinned. "So, thank you."

"I snatched it from Red's magick patch." Faith admitted.

"Oh," Buffy looked at the pot plant in her hands warily now. "In that case, I'm just gonna put it down here, very carefully, for safe-keeping." She set it down in a corner of the porch.

"So… You ready?" Faith's arms swung at her sides. "For the date, I mean."

"Uh huh," Buffy nodded, and now she was looking shy too.

"Right." They stared at each other for a moment, both just smiling slightly. "Right," Faith said again and walked down the porch steps.

Buffy followed right behind her. "So are you gonna tell me where we're going yet?"

"Uh, no. You'll see when we get there." Faith was still feeling awkward over her lame choice of venues, wishing she hadn't let Xander talk her into thinking this was a good idea.

"Okay, can you at least tell me how we're getting there?" Buffy asked next.

Faith stopped on the driveway. "Damn! I keep forgetting we're in the middle of nowhere out here."

Buffy laughed. "Tell me about it."

"I guess I better go call us a cab."

"Wait, ask Giles. It'll be quicker."

"Great. Now it's like I'm asking your dad to give us a ride to our first date; shoulda just stuck with the Chuck E. Cheese idea after all."

Buffy's giggles followed her back up the porch steps.


	7. Act 2:3

"Go through, I'm sure you remember the way," Owen said to the well-dressed guest he'd just greeted

"Go through, I'm sure you remember the way," Owen said to the well-dressed guest.

He had just seen Paddy arrive and wanted to stay at the door.

"You keep this place looking magnificent." The man tapped his black shiny shoes on the spotless tiles. "Superb. My castle never shines like this."

"Your castle is a dark, draughty blot on the Transylvanian landscape."

"Stop, Olwyn, you are making me homesick."

Owen chuckled. "Go ahead. Almost everyone is here now."

"Ig…?"

"Not yet, but soon I imagine."

Strong laughter came as the guest twirled towards the drawing room, his black and red cape billowing as he turned. "That should be interesting."

* * *

Dawn was having the best time. This outranked every party she'd ever been too, not that there had been that many, but she bet it outranked most of the ones she hadn't been to, too. Certainly she'd never heard of a party this wild back in Sunnydale. Except for the ones Buffy had had, but they'd always been the bad kind of wild.

She was dancing in the middle of the ballroom now with Fen on one side of her and Naomi on the other. Three of the Slayers were there too; they'd all taken to Fen as quick as she had. Rona had excused herself a minute ago to get a drink and Dawn had to admit she had no idea where Kennedy was.

When she'd asked Rona, the girl had growled something about the end of her tether and so Dawn had let the subject drop. She hoped Craig and Andrew were with her, where ever she was. They had been dancing too, but Andrew's moves had drawn 'looks' and the already self-conscious boy had reached his limit.

But Kennedy and Andrew were strangely close. If they were together, she might even open up to him in a way she felt she couldn't with her.

"Told you tonight was gonna be awesome," Fen yelled her way.

"You were right," Dawn yelled back. "I can't believe how hard this music rocks!"

"I know. I can't believe the sound system in this place actually worked! One up for the Bou boys, for sure."

The same… well, Dawn didn't want to call them nerds, because Willow was a nerd and Dawn had always kind of seen herself as following in Willow's educational footsteps, but they were wearing plaid shirts tucked into cord jeans that came up to their belly buttons… guys that had been around earlier were up on the stage again. They had some fancy equipment up there that they were getting excited over using – almost pushing each other out of the way to be the one to push the buttons and spin the disks. She wondered why they were even bothering with old fashioned decks and vinyl when the stereo they'd found worked just fine.

"I can't believe a house that's _never_ been occupied has a sound system wired up in the first place!"

The two of them laughed and high fived.

It was a mystery for another day, because right now, having fun was all that mattered. Besides, the supernatural was Buffy's gig, not hers. She wasn't a Chosen one, or one of a Chosen many, something that was in her face all the time at home – so why shouldn't tonight be about her life instead.

Charlie came dancing through the crowd behind them and slipped his arms around Fen. In one hand he held a plastic glass of beer up for her. She turned in his arms to say thank you, but words apparently weren't enough, because she kissed him right after.

Dawn's eyebrows went up as she watched, and then she realised she was perving and turned around quick to dance with Naomi instead. She hadn't realised Fen and Charlie were anything more than friends, but then maybe before tonight they hadn't been.

She realised then that Reece still wasn't back. He'd gone to get drinks ages ago. She thought about going to find him, but he was probably just talking to Craig, or maybe he'd gone outside for a cigarette.

Not wanting to seem like a clingy girlfriend, she decided he'd be back when he was back and carried on dancing, but she couldn't help keeping a watchful eye on the crowd for his return.

* * *

The foyer was chilly and dry leaves chased each other through the front door and across the grimy black and white tiles to play around Reece's feet. It wasn't enough to make him shiver in his shirt sleeves so he didn't notice, but most kids still arriving hurried through the once grand entrance to the warmer climes deep within the house.

That meant it was the quietest room on the ground floor and also had, if the occasion called for it, direct access up the stairs to the even quieter second floor.

Julie – if he remembered her name right – laughed again and touched his arm flirtatiously.

"You really did that?"

"I did," he promised her, smiling. "It was one of my funnier, if not finer, moments."

He had a store of anecdotes from his Academy days, and with the careful omission of the more technical terms of his studies they were better than the average pick-up lines. He wasn't even pulling out his best and this cheerleader – he'd seen her and her squad form an impromptu pyramid on the stage earlier – was eating them up.

"I bet everything you do is fine," she purred, curling her long blonde hair around her finger.

"Well," he lowered his voice a fraction, leaned in an inch or two closer. "I like to think I have great taste."

It took her a second to get it, but then she giggled and slapped his arm lightly.

He'd met her in line for drinks. The barrel had run dry while he was filling his plastic glass, Julie had been behind him and was upset that she missed out on a beer, so he'd done the gentlemanly thing and offered to share.

She said she had a boyfriend somewhere, but that hadn't stopped her from accepting and joining him out here. He had mentioned he was here with Dawn, but hadn't stressed the _here with _part. Julie had never heard of her anyway. She was a senior, he knew Dawn was a junior, and apparently their paths had never crossed.

"British guys are so hot," Julie said like she was imparting some great wisdom. "Why is that?"

"We have to be," Reece smiled again. "It's the only way to survive the weather."

"No really?"

She wasn't the brightest light bulb in the pack, but that was okay, he already had one more girlfriend than he really needed.

"I think it's your accent," she continued. "It's so sexy."

"Thank you."

"See!" She giggled, before adding, "I really wish Brett wasn't here."

The boyfriend, he guessed. He made a show of looking around the empty foyer.

"I don't see him."

She giggled some more and looked around herself. "Well, I guess not."

She put the almost empty beer glass on the floor by their feet, and he smiled when her hands slid up his chest as she straightened back up.

"Then I guess there's nothing to stop us from doing this." Her voice was a purr again.

She'd been about to kiss him, and he'd been about to let her, but out of the corner of his eye he saw an unwelcome face coming through the door from the main hall. His Slayer. He stepped back just in time and raised his hand to Julie's shoulder to stop her from following.

"I don't want to jeopardise your relationship with Brett," he said smoothly.

"What do you care?" she asked, sounding hurt by his rebuttal.

"I don't, about him," he said, trying to keep his voice slow and steady as he watched Rona fart about on the other side of the foyer. She was acting like she hadn't spotted him yet, but Slayer's had ears better than dogs. "But you seem like a nice girl and I'd hate you to throw away someone good for you on a whim. We don't even know each other properly; I could be a rotten scoundrel."

"I think your sweet," she insisted.

"Thank you," he said again, flashing her another disarming smile, but before it could have an unhelpful effect he stooped down and retrieved the beer from the floor. "But maybe you should get to know me before you make any life-altering decisions."

Not that he was planning on giving her that chance. Rona was still messing about by the other wall, fiddling with something that seemed to be stuck in her pocket. Maybe she was drunk. Did that mean he was supposed to give her a lecture on not drinking? Part of his duties was to keep his Slayer on the straight and narrow, but he didn't want to bother right now.

"Well," Julie whispered coquettishly, touching his arm again. "How about we go upstairs and I can get to know you better?"

Reece groaned inwardly. It sounded like a great invitation, but not one he could take up. Before he could answer either way though, Kennedy came through the same door Rona had. She wasn't swaying, but she looked distinctly the worse for wear.

Rona turned to her and was about to say something, but Kennedy gave her a dirty look and continued on. She didn't even seem to notice him and Julie as she walked past and took the stairs to the darkened upper floor.

"What's her deal?" Julie asked, frowning after her.

"That's what I want to know."

Reece had been staring after Kennedy too and was surprised to hear Rona speak right next to him. She didn't sound drunk at all, which at least was a relief.

"Aren't you going to go after her?" he asked, nodding to the stairs.

If Rona left to deal with Kennedy, he could perhaps invite Julie to take a walk outside with him and she could get her chance to know him better.

"Why don't you go?" Rona sneered at him. "You're the Watcher."

"What does that mean?" Julie wrinkled her nose in confusion. "And do you two know each other?"

"Yes, we do," Reece admitted reluctantly, "and she means I'm the designated driver – it's an English term." To Rona, he said, "And if it was you going up there pissed out of your skull, that would mean something, but Kennedy's not my responsibility."

"Nice." Rona chuckled sarcastically. "Good to know we're not all some sugary happy family like Buffy and Giles keep saying."

"Is this your girlfriend?" Julie demanded, her hands going to her skinny hips. "Because if you are," she directed at the Slayer. "He never mentioned you."

"No," said Rona. "That poor chick is in there waiting for him."

And the fun was officially over. Reece finished the last few mouthfuls of beer and handed the glass to Julie without a word.

To Rona, he just said, "I'm sorry, you are right." and started up the stairs after Kennedy.

At the top of the wide staircase, he had to strain his eyes to see through the gloom. Only small candle shaped wall lights offered any remittance from the dark up here.

"Kennedy, you bloody prat, where are you?" he called out, peering left and right down the long hallway for any sign of her.

* * *

"Where would you like me to drop you?" Giles asked, as he drove along Boudenver's main street.

"On my head," Faith muttered from the back of the car. "No, wait, someone musta done that already."

Buffy unclipped her seatbelt so she could twist around and look at Faith, "What's wrong?"

"This is lame."

"Going on a date with me is _lame_?" Buffy tried to keep some amusement in her voice.

"No, B," Faith said quietly, looking out of the car window. "Just… maybe we should do this some other time, maybe."

Giles turned his head slightly to smile at Buffy and she was glad he thought there was something to smile about.

"If you didn't want to go out, why ask me in the first place?"

"Dunno."

"Thanks a bunch." Crossing her arms, Buffy stared moodily out of the passenger window. She should have known she was getting her hopes up for nothing, but was it so wrong to want some proof that Faith did actually want her as a girlfriend and not just someone to fool about with after patrol or to act as a stabilizing influence in front of her parole officer. "You might as well just turn the car around, Giles."

"Sorry to waste your time," Faith said in a voice so small Buffy barely heard her over the engine.

Giles cheerfully ignored them both. "So, where would you like me to drop you?"

"Giles!"

"G…?"

"Ah, I see a pair of spooks heading into Barnies so I'll take the liberty of assuming that was your destination."

Buffy looked over to see two walking bed sheets enter the bar. Before she could argue, Giles was pulling up in front. She did anyway.

"You heard Faith. She doesn't wasn't to do this, and far be it from me to force her to…"

Giles turned the radio on, cutting Buffy off with a blast of old people music.

"Do you…?" she began to whine, but her door opening made her stop. She looked up to see a nervous zombie standing there. She hadn't even realised Faith had left the car. "Hello."

"Okay," was all Faith said.

Buffy waited for more.

"Okay," Faith said again. "If you promise not to hold the lameness against me, I'm ready."

"Oh, you're ready now? Sure you don't wanna think about it some more? We wouldn't want you rushing in to anything and it's not like I_ made any effort!_" She pointed to the uncomfortable red and gold bodice she was wearing.

Giles turned the radio off again. "Buffy, please get out of the car?"

She gave him a 'why aren't you on my side' look. He tipped his head towards Faith, smiling knowingly. Although what he knew was a mystery to her.

"Fine." Buffy got out of the car.

Faith thanked Giles for the ride and then he was driving off almost before she shut the door; not giving either of them the chance to change their minds again.

Buffy stood on the pavement, not looking at Faith. Faith was not looking back too. Across the road Barnies stood bright and imposing. A man with a hatchet sticking out of his head entered and a gust of music and chatter came through the open door.

"So, here we are." Faith sneered, reaching into her jacket pocket for her smokes. "Impressed?"

Buffy turned to look at her scornfully, "So far, not really. What's eating you?"

Faith was lighting a cigarette and the first smoke rushed out in a frustrated plume.

"Nuthin'."

"Seriously? So this is how you always act on a date?"

Faith flinched and took another angry pull on the cigarette. "Look, I'm sorry if I'm being an ass." Her eyes were locked on the door across the street. "It's just… I'm kinda feeling like an ass right now."

"Which would explain the assness in a nutshell." Buffy shook her head with a sigh. "Okay, then I accept your apology." She gestured to the door. "Can we go in now?"

Faith didn't move. It looked like she was clenching her jaw. There was a slight tick where Buffy wanted to see dimples.

"You know, I always thought dating a girl would involve less ass, not more."

"Least you got something right."

Terrific, now Faith was muttering snide comments under her breath. The insinuation was clear; Faith wasn't getting any, poor Faith. But did she really think acting like this was going to help that sitch?

Buffy bit her tongue until she felt she could speak with a civil tone. "You know, there's not much point in making the apology if you're just gonna turn right around and be assy again."

"Then I retract my apology."

"Okay, then I retract my acceptance. You are an ass, a big ass with all the ass-trappings that go with, and I should dump your ass-like ass for being such an ass…" Buffy had to pause for breath, "…but I didn't get dressed up like this to go to Xander's underwear party, so _come on!_"

Faith was looking at her now, eyebrows up, not quite grinning but definitely less tense than before. "You expect me to take you on a date after you speak to me like that?"

"No. No, I don't." Buffy told her, her voice shrill with impatience. "Because if I wait for you to face your fear, I'm gonna need a walker to get across this road. So… I'm taking you on a date."

"Wha…?"

"Faith, will you go out with me this evening? You will? Great. I'll pick you up an hour ago."

"Buff…"

"Hi, Faith. Wow, you look amazing. We're going to…" Buffy looked down at her spangly costume and then at Faith's sliced and mangled one. "…what I can only hope is a fancy dress party at Barnies. It's going to be awesome, but even if it isn't it won't matter, because the important thing is that we're there together… Did you catch that bit, because it's kinda a major theme of my vexation here?"

Faith was grinning now; although she didn't look very happy about it. She nodded, "I caught it."

"Good." Buffy leaned close enough to kiss Faith's cheek. "Now be a good zombie and relax; and I promise you you'll get through your first date unscathed."

"Hey! Who said it was my first…"

"I can spot a virgin." Buffy smirked.

Faith gave her a semi-amused glare.

Ignoring it, Buffy linked her arm through Faith's and started towards the bar. "So, do you think we're even still allowed in here? After last time, I mean, when we got arrested."

"Shit!" Faith stopped again. "I didn't even think of that."

"I was kidding!"

"But what if you're right?" Faith frowned. "See, this is what I mean? I can't do this shit, B. Our first date and I'm taking you someplace we're probably friggin' barred from." She started backing away from the bar.

"Then I'll just have to flash some spandex and we'll slip in while Alex's eyes are still glazed." Buffy tried dragging her to the door by their linked arms, wanting to get her in there before she spazzed completely again. "Come on! Don't make me use my lasso."

* * *

Reece got lucky – although not in the way he'd been hoping to obviously – and found Kennedy only halfway down the dusty corridor. She was in a bedroom, sitting on a musty bed, hugging her knees. Her face was buried in her arms and she was rocking slightly, but he couldn't tell if she was crying.

She'd found a light by the bed and switched it on – it was a wonder this place still had electricity, but there was proof of it all over the house – and the smell of burnt dust rising from the bulb and the moth-eaten lampshade made his nose itch a little.

He tapped the door gently, not wanting to startle her. When she didn't acknowledge it he stepped into the room and slowly approached the bed.

"Kennedy?"

"If you ask if I'm okay I will launch you up into the spider nests."

Reece looked up to see what she meant. The ceiling was covered with dust-brown tendrils. He wasn't generally scared of spiders back home, but was well aware they had poisonous ones this side of the pond.

He sat down on the very end of the bed. "I'll not ask if you're okay then."

"Good."

"What are you doing up here?"

"Thinking."

"What about?"

"Since when is that your business?"

That was a good question. It wasn't his business and he didn't want it to be his business, but downstairs when Rona had sneered at him, he'd… not liked it.

It wasn't that he was in the Watcher trade for the power trip like some were, he didn't want to lord it over his Slayer and be the big 'I am', but he did want her respect. He was aware he didn't have that right now, and was smart enough to know that he'd have to earn it from someone like Rona and not just expect it to be offered for the sake of his position. That was fine; he gave respect on the same principals.

So he was up here trying to earn it fair and square, but he wasn't going to tell Kennedy that.

"It's not, but… we don't know how sound this house is. I don't want you stomping around up here and falling through the floor boards."

Kennedy looked up; her face was dry and cold. "Rona sent you, didn't she? Bitch sent her watcher to slap me back into line. Didn't have the guts to come herself…"

"Now hang on a minute," Reece raised his voice, getting more annoyed. "Rona's a bloody brave girl and she's your damn friend. I know you're bladdered right now, but I won't have you slagging her off just because you're feeling sorry for yourself."

"Whatever."

"Don't give me that. I don't know what happened, but I bet she'd be up here right now if you hadn't said something to piss her off."

"How do you know it wasn't something she said that pissed me off?"

He didn't, but Kennedy had pissed _him _off. "Because I've seen the mood you've been in all evening. You've already upset Dawn."

"Never asked her to get in my face."

"She wasn't in your face! She was trying to care."

"Well, now she knows better."

"Do you not like having friends or something?" Reece asked in exasperation.

"I like friends who aren't only there when it's convenient."

"And you think tonight was a convenient time for Dawn to get shit on by you?"

"I didn't…"

"She's spent more time tonight worrying about you than she has enjoying the party." It was one of the reasons he'd gone wandering in the first place. "You're being a selfish brat…"

Kennedy burst up to her knees, her drunkenness not slowing her down at all. Instantly Reece's training kicked in and he was on his feet, one arm raised to his chest ready to block the blow should she make one.

Instead she laughed, "Are you scared of me?"

He chose to watch her warily instead of answering.

"Some Watcher you're going to make if you're scared of Slayers." She taunted him.

"I am not scared of Slayers," he said firmly, but he didn't lower his arm. "However, I am aware of the dangers involved in dealing with psychotic ones."

There had been a whole course of lessons on them in fact. The rogue, Faith, had featured heavily, but she was by no means the only one in the Council's history.

"So you're calling me psychotic now?"

"Drunk, psychotic, both are irrational and both hit just as hard."

"You're really annoying, you know that?"

Reece was offended. He'd never been called annoying in his life. He'd been called a bastard and an arsehole, but never annoying. He was as smooth as glass, he had the Highbury charm, the intellect of an Oxford scholar, the looks of young Hollywood movie star, the morals of a rock star…

He smiled at his self-assessment, and chuckled softly as he answered her. "No, but I can see why some might think so. Didn't think you'd be the type to be jealous of me, though," he teased. "It's not like you don't have a lot going for you, yourself. Money, so I hear, passably pretty, brains you know how to use, funny even, sometimes…"

"Passably pretty?"

"It's confidence, though, that draws the women. That's what I find anyway. You had that; I could tell the first night we met. I actually had my eye on you, thought we could, I don't know," he smiled. "And then I realised you were the competition, not the prize, and I was looking forward to the challenge."

Kennedy pointed at him indignantly. "Firstly, I don't see women as prizes, they're people not speedboats, and… firstly, I don't consider them a challenge."

"Yes you do," Reece countered. "And you said firstly twice."

"I decided both points were equally important." Kennedy waggled her finger. "And… No, I don't."

"You see a girl you want to shag, and you go after her. You're pushy and forceful, or sweet and gentle, whatever it takes to get her, right?" Reece's tone brooked no denial. "You have your eyes on the prize and you are always up to the challenge."

"Fine, so what if I do," Kennedy gave in. "So what if I am. There's nothing wrong with knowing what I want and since when is confidence a bad thing."

"It isn't." Reece shrugged. "It's a shame you lost it."

"I haven't," she replied angrily.

"Looks like it to me."

"You don't know me!"

"Not very well, no, I agree, but I know you're not the same woman you were a month ago."

She stared hard at him, annoyed, her fists balling up the manky bedcovers by her knees. "That's bullshit."

"What's bullshit, darling, is you coming up here to sob your heart out over a woman, when you could be down there having fun and forgetting about her."

"You're saying I should cheat on Willow?" She sneered.

"I never said that, but seeing as you brought it up, monogamy obviously isn't doing you any favours." Reece replied calmly.

"Screw you!"

"Look, you obviously already think the relationship is over…"

"I don't."

"Well, you act like it. You mope about, you've lost interest in everything, you don't even slay anymore. Face it, love, you let yourself get under the thumb, Willow's thumb to be precise, and now you're not her be all and end all, you've given up, lost the will to be you, it's sad but true, I'm afraid."

Kennedy shook her head, "No."

"No?" Reece laughed. "That's all the response you have?"

"I'm still me and I haven't given up."

"Looks like it to the rest of us."

"Then it looks wrong."

"So all the sulking during the day and going out to drown your sorrows at night is just a clever tactical move that's too sophisticated for the rest of us to spot?"

Kennedy got off of the bed to stand in front of him. For a moment he thought she was about to attack him after all. He almost wouldn't have blamed her. After all, he was deliberately goading her, but her patheticness recently, while mildly amusing to start with, really had been grating on his nerves.

She didn't attack, but she looked determined. Her jaw was set, her shoulders were back. Silently he congratulated himself on at least bucking her up even if it lead nowhere. Especially as he had generally only gotten D's in Motivational Speech – his weakest subject by far; apparently he lacked patience and showed a trend for being too brusque.

"I've been regenerating," Kennedy said. "And also, by the sounds of it, spending too much time with Andrew. "I needed to get my head together, things moved fast with Willow, and… you're right, that's not me. I hit and run. Breakfast the next morning is my idea of a long relationship. I don't know what I'm doing."

She went to an antique dressing table by the window and leaned on it, staring into a mirror to dusty too give a reflection. Reece turned to face her back, but stayed quiet, waiting to see if she had more to say, because he was pretty much done now. He didn't want to say anything else in case it was the proverbial too much. He realised he'd actually been a Watcher tonight. Not in the strictest sense of the word maybe, but in the truest sense. He'd helped a slayer deal with her issues; the fact that they weren't duty related or that it wasn't his Slayer he was helping was neither here nor there.

"She caught me off guard," Kennedy continued to the fuzzy grey mirror. "I've been in lust before, been infatuated briefly even, but never… Love is new and…" she paused for a long moment. "… I don't think I like it much at the moment. Is it always so hard? Shouldn't I be happy to be in love? I mean, it's supposed to be the thing everyone yearns for, right? So why have I been feeling like shit ever since I realised?"

When her pause stretched on even longer this time, he realised she might be waiting for an answer from him.

"Because instead of embracing the feeling and making the most of it, you've been acting like a kicked dog."

She turned to glare at him over her shoulder, but then looked away again without comment.

He shrugged. "Perhaps because it's so new you were scared."

"You're saying I'm a coward?"

It seemed like a genuine question, so he gave her a genuine answer.

"In this instance, yes."

She nodded. "Have you ever been in love?"

He hesitated before deciding he owed her the truth, "Yes."

"Were you scared?"

"Not at first."

"Did she hurt you?"

Reece hesitated even more now. This wasn't who _he_ was, he didn't share like this with people, but then he got the impression that Kennedy didn't either.

"I hurt her and that scares me," he finally replied.

"What do you mean?"

Kennedy was turning away from the mirror to face him when the house started to shake and the light began to flicker. She turned back to grab hold of the dressing table again, her inebriated legs not up to withstanding the floor's motion and Reece fell sideways to the bed, slapping his hands over his ears as a loud _kwa-zingggg_ sound cut through the room, threatening to burst their eardrums.

* * *

Downstairs in the ballroom chaos had erupted as one hundred and fifty kids tried to figure out why the floor was shaking, the music was distorting and the lights were flashing weird psychedelic colours that no mirror ball could ever be able to emulate, but it was at its most frenzied on the small stage.

"Nearly there!" One tall skinny boy promised as he held his glasses on with one hand and peered over the vibrating equipment.

"Good," said another, who was holding on to the decks with one hand as he consulted a clipboard. "Because much longer and it's gonna rip altogether. "We've never tested more than fifteen _medes_ at a time and we're up to fourteen!" His voice was high with anxiety.

"Fifteen was fine," a shorter, stouter boy reminded him, sounding the only confident one to have spoken so far. "And we've always worked with a three _medes_ threshold. Stop being a baby."

The antennae sticking up from various places on the thing that looked very much like a set of DJ decks started sparking blue and green, and streams of what could have been electricity started to flash between them.

"Stop being a baby?" Clipboard guy shouted. "A rip could mean death to all; and that's the big ALL, not just the people in this room."

"Well, you'll be the first to go, so the guilt will be short-lived," said tall, skinny guy.

Another guy bustled between them, a manic grin on his face as he leaned over the dials. "I'm taking her up to sixteen. Get ready to become prestigious, men."

In his excitement he twizzled the dial too far and hit seventeen. "Oh shi…!"

There was a bang, and the ballroom, and possibly the whole state of Ohio, was lost in a blue-green flash.

end of act 2


	8. Act 3:1

I'm starting to sense a pattern here, but I'm really sorry for the long delay. I had some computer issues, a virus to be exact, and first I didn't want to post incase the infection spread and then I couldn't post because my computer died on me. All fixed now though - factory settings baby - and so here we go. This is only a small segment of this act. I'm posting what I have ready because its been so long since I posted anything, so you have the people who prodded me recently to thank :). I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

Act three

A bang, smoke, actual shaking this time, Dawn was starting to feel stupid for dismissing what had happened here earlier

A bang, smoke, actual shaking this time, and Dawn was starting to feel stupid for dismissing what had happened here earlier. She should have known better. Weird stuff didn't just happen for no reason. She should have told Buffy, but she'd been worried that her sister wouldn't let her go, or even worse, would insist on coming too to find out what was going on, and thus ensuring that she never got to know the pleasures and pitfalls of being cool or popular.

But she could have told one of the five slayers that had come to the party with her, in fact giving them a heads up probably would have been welcomed, judging by the way three of them were looking at her now.

As the blue-green smoke cleared, one of the guys from Boudenver Academy shouted over the distorted music and the general confusion in the ballroom.

"Sorry about that. The amp blew up! Small fire, all totally out now. Please continue with what you were doing?"

After some wary looking around, most of the kids did just that. The beer had been flowing, well, until the keg had run dry anyway, and besides, they were kids – if there wasn't something trying to immediately devour them, they were making the most of the adult-free house for as long as possible.

Dawn wished she was a normal kid, although, actually, she was, she just didn't have a normal life. Xander had been right; it was way harder to be normal when you knew the world around you wasn't.

"The electrics in this place must be shot," Fen said. "That's the second time that's happened."

"Place is old." Was Charlie's only answer. He still had his arm loosely draped around Fen. "Come on, let's go find Aaron. He brought a bottle of Vodka with him."

"You coming?" she asked Dawn.

"Uh, I'm not drinking, but I'll catch up with you later, okay."

Fen nodded and the two of them walked through the crowd. Dawn wasn't sure about letting her go, but what could she say to stop her? She'd had the secret identity spiel programmed into her from an early age. Besides, everything seemed back to normal now.

"Wow, I thought something bad was happening." Miranda said after they'd gone. "I didn't know an amp catching fire could make the lights go wonky like that."

"It wasn't the amp," Dawn said.

"Do you know something?" Naomi asked her. Her expression showed that she didn't think it was something so simple either.

"I know it wasn't the amp, at least, I don't think it was the amp."

"Dude! Who changed the music?" A guy on the other side of the room called out.

While they'd been talking, the music had undistorted itself. Dawn hadn't taken any notice, assuming it was all part of the 'back to normal' thing, but now she realised Blink 182 and the Chilli Peppers had been replaced by Mozart and Handel.

"Are those geeks up there trying to convert us, do you think?" asked Alison. "Or is this all part of the not-the-amp strangeness?"

"I don't know," said Dawn slowly, and she really didn't. "Maybe we should find Reece and the others."

They all agreed and set off to find them. Above their heads, the chandeliers burned brightly.

* * *

Up on the stage, the boys from Boudenver were kind of losing it. Tall and skinny number one had shouted out the fake apology to the crowd and now tall and skinny number two was having a mini-meltdown.

"What did we do? What did we do? What did we do?"

"Nothing," said cocky and clumsy. He sounded disappointed. "All that work, and nothing."

"I wouldn't say nothing," said short and stocky. "We changed the music."

"And the place is cleaner, I think," said tall and skinny number one. "The floor looks all shiny."

"Great," said cocky and clumsy dismally. "Eighteen months of research and five months of practical experimentation and we accomplished a Mickey."

"A Mickey?" Tall and skinny number two asked.

"Cleaned the place up with magic." Cocky and clumsy explained his technical terminology.

"And we changed the music." Short and stocky reminded them again, desperately trying to figure out how to change it back before people started throwing things.

* * *

The library was small and cosy compared to most of the rooms on the ground floor. Lined floor to ceiling with books dating as far back as the invention of the printing press. It was a comfortable space, with several reading chairs and two large Victorian era sofas. Handel played softly through the small speakers mounted up by the ceiling. It was supposed to create a calm, relaxing ambience.

It wasn't.

"What is the meaning of this disgrace?" The Count asked in his authoritive, Slavic tone. "Never have we been treated as corralled cattle."

"It is most unfortunate," Owen apologised. "This is unprecedented. My wards have always been secure."

"So we are just to sit here?" Victor asked. "You are happy to remain a captive in your own house?"

"We are not captives," Owen said, exasperated, not with his friends, but with the situation. "You are all free to leave, as am I."

"That was not what he meant." Victor's friend said slowly in a voice that was bordering on painful for the ears. Not that that was his fault.

"I don't want to leave," Ptah said, his voice slightly muffled. "We only see each other once a year as it is."

Owen didn't often shrug. The notion to do so had been beaten out of him at a young age by his master, but now it was all he could do.

The door to the library suddenly burst open, making everyone look that way in alarm.

"Here youth all are!" Iggy said excitedly, waving a five fingered hand in greeting. In his other he held a bottle half full of vodka. "I didn't think I wath going to find youth guysh. Olwyn, my thriend! Great party thish year!"

Everyone groaned in unison.

* * *

Reece had fallen sideways on to the bed when the shaking had taken him by surprise. The sharp electrical sound had made him cover his ears, but the bang a few moments later had him covering his head as well.

When the shaking stopped he crawled further on to the bed, rubbing at his ears, trying to get rid of the horrible ringing feeling.

Kennedy's legs had given out during the shaking; forcing her to do a controlled plop to the floor, where she sat until it stopped. Her ears, more sensitive than Reece's, were buzzing like she had mosquitoes in them. She felt sick enough from the shaking, the light flickering and the buzzing to think she was getting a hangover already.

She stayed put on the floor, taking deep breaths of the lightly lavender scented air until the worst of it passed and then she crawled to the bed and unsteadily climbed on to the mattress.

"Remind me not to drink again," she muttered as she curled into a ball next to Reece's outstretched body.

"Okay." Reece pulled a face as one of his ears unpopped painfully. "But I'm not drunk and that didn't make it any more pleasant for me. Was that an earthquake?"

"I don't think so. But then the only earthquake I've experienced was in Sunnydale, and that was less earthquake, more the whole city being sucked under ground by evil."

Reece looked out of the window. "We still seem to be above ground, so at least that's not an issue."

Kennedy couldn't face looking up to prove it. "Good."

Reece winced as his other ear unpopped and then lay there for a minute saying nothing. He needed to re-gather, and Kennedy needed time to feel less sick, she was obviously useless right now.

Eventually she uncurled, still breathing deeply, and pulled herself up the bed to rest her head on the pillow. Reece wanted to warn her not to. The house had clearly been abandoned for some time and who knew what animals, or people, had been on this bed. Strangely though, the bedspread smelled laundered and fresh.

He pushed himself closer to the pillow on his side of the bed and gave it an experimental sniff. Hmm, not the musty, half rotten smell he'd gotten used to while arguing with Kennedy. He lowered his head to the softness of it and turned on to his back, willing his headache away.

"You alright?"

"Mmm," Kennedy's eyes were closed, but she opened them a few seconds later. "So if that wasn't an earthquake, what the hell was it?"

"No idea." Reece admitted. "We should find the others. See if they felt anything. That would determine if it affected the whole house, or just us."

"If it was just us, that would mean something supernatural, right?"

"Could mean supernatural either way, but if it was something benign, Dawn might know what."

"Okay, just give me one minute." Kennedy said, closing her eyes again. "Room's spinning."

"Take five minutes," Reece said generously, he didn't want to deal with her being sick. "But then we have to go."

He stared blankly up at the ceiling, and then not so blankly. He tilted his head to one side, staring hard. "Uh, Kennedy?"

"What we talked about," she said with her eyes still shut. "You won't say anything, will you?"

Forgetting his point for a moment, he rolled over to face her. "That depends. Are you going to get your act together now?"

She opened her eyes slowly. "Not sure what my act is supposed to be now."

"Well, either you accept you're in love and do what you do best to make it work. Or, you cut Willow loose and do what you do best to get over her. Whichever you decide, the important bit is that you be true to yourself."

Kennedy started laughing. "Do you have any idea how cheesy you just sounded? My Watcher was grave and uptight, but he was never cheesy."

Reece laughed with her. "I'm still learning," he said, pushing her shoulder.

"Obviously." She pushed him back.

The drink was still claiming her and she was a little more vigorous than she meant to be. He rolled onto his back again and was reminded of what had struck him before.

Grabbing her wrist in his urgency, he pointed upwards with his other hand. "Wasn't there cobwebs up there earlier?"

She looked up and her jaw went slack for a moment. "Yeah, lots."

He let go of her wrist and she used his chest to push herself up a little, staring in surprise at the unspoiled, pure while ceiling. Her eyes fell back to his and they shared a look of confusion.

"What's going on?" Dawn's sudden shrill accusation had both of them looking at the doorway.

Together they moved quickly to sit up, eager to ask the others if they knew what was happening and to point out the uncobwebby ceiling. Unfortunately, to Dawn, it looked as if they were springing guiltily apart.

"Why are you…? What are you…?"

Dawn started questions she wasn't finishing and Reece and Kennedy looked at each other even more confused. Which didn't exactly fill Dawn with confidence.

Dawn finally managed to spit one full sentence at them. "Were you two making out?"

"Kennedy and I?" Reece started laughing again at the ridiculous allegation.

"No! The ceiling!" Kennedy pointed at it.

Cici, Miranda and Alison all looked up at it, but they didn't know what they were looking for. Naomi shook her head slightly, staring coldly at Reece.

Dawn didn't seem to know what to do. She stood there, not even hearing what they were saying, because it didn't make sense anyway. Her eyes, filled with stunned pain, went back and forth between them, waiting for a proper explanation.

Looking away from the ceiling and noticing her expression, Kennedy began, "Dawn, you can't believe…"

"I know what I saw." Dawn ground out between her teeth.

"Then clearly you aren't seeing very well," Reece said, smiling the smile of someone who knew he was innocent.

"I can see you two all cosy together," Dawn counteracted, her tone making it clear she wished she couldn't.

"No, we were just talking, and then this thing happened." Kennedy explained, looking back at Reece for confirmation."

Reece nodded. "The floor started shaking."

"And you both just happened to fall on top of each other on the conveniently placed bed?" Dawn asked, crossing her arms.

"No, only I fell on the bed," said Reece.

"Yeah, I fell on the floor." Kennedy pointed to the space between the dresser and the bed.

Dawn shook her head, "Well, you're not on the floor now?"

"No, I climbed on the bed to," Kennedy frowned, "lay down."

"How snug."

"Dawn, we were just talking." Reece was getting sick of this nonsense. If he'd been caught out fair and square doing something wrong, well that was one thing, but he wasn't being accused like this for nothing.

"You really expect me to believe that?" Dawn's voice was almost dog-whistle high. It was doing nothing for Reece's headache. "That Kennedy chose to talk to you about stuff when she won't talk to anyone else? She's been avoiding me since we started dating because she doesn't like you, but now she's all willing to share her internal melodrama with you?"

"I haven't been avoiding you," Kennedy scoffed. "You've just been too busy with your new school friends, and him," she nodded sideways at Reece, "to hang out with me. And I'm not melodramatic!"

Alison coughed at that.

Kennedy glared at her.

"Okay, so we'll be going." Alison started to gently push the other two junior Slayers out of the room. "Wanna head out of the firing line, Nai?"

"We still need to know what is going on," Naomi said, but started to leave with them anyway.

"Well if you would just look at the ceiling," Kennedy said irritably.

"What about the darn ceiling?" Dawn shouted. "What's so fascinating about it that you had to lie in each others arm to see it?"

"Enough!" Reece got off the bed angrily. "There is something strange going on here, and Dawn, acting like a silly little girl isn't helping us find out what."

"Silly little…" Dawn began, furious but with tears in her voice.

"Kennedy is a flipping lesbian, Dawn. What, do you think my feminine side is so strong I converted her? Do you trust me so little that you think I'm shagging every woman I'm alone with?" Reece shouted, wondering what Rona might have said about Julie. Speaking of. "And if you are all up here having a go at me while something supernatural is going on… Where is my Slayer?"

Everyone looked at everyone; no one saw Rona.


	9. Act 3:2

Wow, again a long delay. Not intentional, sorry, I was just trying to get nice and ahead of myself before posting and I got a little carried away. Anyway, thanks for the reviews for the last part and I hope you enjoy this part. It's a bit longer than usual because I wanted to bookend with Buffy and Faith scenes to balance out all the plotty stuff - I hope it works, but as always, please feel free to tell me if it doesn't.

* * *

Barnies was packed

Barnies was packed. It was far busier than it had been on disco night. Nearly every table was filled with ghouls, ghosts and goblins of all shapes and sizes not to mention a few movie heroes, famous singers and fairytale leads. Jugs of beer were flowing freely and laughter and chatter mingled with the cheesiest music of the eighties and nineties. Alex's cousin, otherwise known as their electrician, was dj-ing again and he nodded to both of them as they passed.

The vibe was fantastic. Everyone seemed to be having a good time and for the first time since they'd moved into the camp, Buffy wasn't feeling any hostility from the locals. There were none of the unwelcoming looks or cold shoulders she had come to associate with a night on the town. It was as if Halloween had broken down the barriers between the insiders and the outsiders and for tonight at least, they were accepted. Or perhaps with everyone in costume and pretending to be someone, or something, they weren't, her and Faith just didn't stand out as strangers so much.

Or maybe the beer was just _really_ flowing.

Whatever the reason it was nice, and when they made it past the door without getting kicked back out, they both relaxed. A little. Enough to smile at each other a bit more; enough to laugh as Alex warned them both to behave or else before giving them their first drink on the house. Once Faith had a beer and Buffy had her favourite green cocktail in her hand, Alex also went as far as to point out the only vacant table in the joint.

"Okay, so this is pretty much Dating 101, but I'm gonna ease you in." Buffy grinned as they made their way through the crowds to the back room. "First, pulling your date's chair out for them is always a good solid move."

Faith went to do it, but stopped herself. "I thought you were taking me on a date now. Doesn't that mean you have to pull my chair out for me?"

"Huh, I guess so." With her free hand Buffy pulled out one of the chairs and then smiled at Faith, or where Faith had been. Now she was on the other side of the table sitting down.

"I just pulled out a chair for you." Buffy waved at the chair. "You're supposed to wait and sit in it."

"I thought you were kidding." Faith frowned. "Well I not moving now; I'll look like a bigger idiot than I feel."

Buffy sat down. "Don't worry, that's normal. Everyone feels like an idiot on a first date."

"They do?"

"Oh yeah. It's all 'Do I look okay?', 'Do I have food in my teeth?', 'Am I smiling too much?', 'Am I talking too much?', 'Am I interesting enough?', 'Smart enough?', 'Sexy enough?'…"

"I'm not the only one who's nervous here, am I?"

Smiling sheepishly, Buffy ducked her head to suck at her straw, hoping Faith wouldn't realise she was blushing. She really was feeling nervous. She hadn't been on a first date with someone who made her feel as tingly all over as this since Riley, and that had been _years_ ago! She could hardly remember correct protocol herself and here she was trying to teach and reassure Faith at the same time. They needed an icebreaker, but she was freaking too much on the inside to think of one.

Faith played with her beer bottle, pulling at a corner of the label with her fingernails. "We could always get all that hard shit out of the way right now."

Buffy looked up to smile across the table. "You mean like I could tell you that despite the week old corpse make-up you look pretty great tonight?"

"Yeah," Faith glanced up and then back down at her bottle. "And then I could tell you that you don't have food in your teeth."

"You're not smiling too much," Buffy promised, and then frowning slightly, she added, "Although, you're not really smiling enough either."

Faith looked up. "Yeah, well, you're talking too much."

Not sure whether to be amused or offended, Buffy gave a tiny cough-like laugh that was somewhere between the two. "Yeah, well, you're not being very interesting."

"Says the dumb blonde." Faith smirked.

"I'm dumb? I know tonight was all about you trying to get me into bed and you come looking as sexy as a dead body?"

"Don't try and kid me, girlfriend, we both know dead bodies turn you on."

"Undead bodies turn me on!" Buffy retorted, and then wished she'd just let that one go. "And only two of them. It's not like I've dated an entire living dead football team or anything. And I have _never_ been attracted to a zombie; zombies are all… yuck."

They stared each other down for a minute, maybe two, before Faith relaxed back into her seat, smiling.

"That feels better. More normal, ya know?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Buffy smiled and slurped up some of her drink. "Not sure what that says about us, but... meh."

Faith carefully peeled the label from her bottle. Buffy chewed on her straw.

"So you really don't think zombies are sexy?" Faith asked.

"You really think blondes are dumb?" Buffy asked back.

"Ya know, I heard dating was a minefield," Faith grinned. "But I never really believed it."

"Yep, big minefield, lottsa mines." Buffy slurped the last of her drink up through her straw. "If you don't tread carefully, you could lose a foot, or, you know, any hope you have of sex this year."

Faith looked nervous again and Buffy kicked herself.

"But you're gonna tell me how to avoid the mines, right?" Faith checked.

"Totally!" Buffy said quickly, after all, she wanted sex again this year too. "Second rule: never leave your date without a drink." Smiling encouragingly, she pushed her empty glass across the table.

Faith groaned, but stood up again to go back to the busy bar. "You know, I'm gonna check with Red about these dating rules before I ask you out again."

Buffy grinned as she walked away and made a mental note to get hold of Willow first.

* * *

Willow had reached her mope-quota for one night, and now, frowning at her bedroom walls was just getting boring. Wearily rising from the bed, she trailed down the front stairs to see what was happening. At the least there would be candy.

Xander was laughing at something on the television, his hand digging into the big bowl of popcorn on the couch next to him. He was only in his boxers and visibly jumped and covered himself with a cushion when he realised he wasn't alone.

Willow giggled at him. "Hey."

"Hey. I thought you'd gone to bed."

"I got up again." She went and sat on the other side of the popcorn bowl.

"And you're staying? Does that mean I have to put on pants?"

"I've seen you in your boxers before, Xan," she reminded him, reaching for a handful of the buttery kernels. "I've seen you _naked_ before."

"What? No you haven't!"

"Yuhuh! When we were seven and your mom caught us making mud wrestling in your yard and she made us take a bath."

"Oh, right." Xander smiled fondly as he remembered that particular sporting misconception. "I've grown a bit since then."

"I'd be worried if you hadn't," she mumbled with her mouth full. "Aren't you more worried Giles or Vi might see you?"

Apparently the practise patrol last night with the new Slayer and her parents did not go down well so Giles is having an early night." Xander pointed at his bedroom door with the remote. "And I told Vi she could only come to the party if she was in her underwear."

"Xander!"

"That's exactly what she said. So she's watching the portable TV in mine and Andy's room."

His focus was back on the television as he talked. He leaned forward, over his cushion, for the bottle of beer on the coffee table, but only had a small sip before returning it to its coaster and settling back to enjoy the cartoon again.

Willow shook her head at him. "You seem in better spirits today."

"Yeah. I think this is officially one of my good days. I do have them now and then."

"You wanna talk about your not so good days?" Willow asked.

She and Buffy were still trying to wear Xander's funk down and pull him out of the jaws of despair, but so far he was being super-annoyingly resistant to all their methods. Maybe this good old fashion popcorn fest was the perfect time to stage the next attack. Some back-up Buffy would have been good, but she was obviously still out having fun on her stupid Faith-date, and it wasn't as if Willow hadn't pulled Xander up by his bootstraps before. Their best friendliness had been a twosome long before it was a threesome.

"Not in a million years." He shoved a big handful of popcorn into his mouth so he had reason not to add anything.

"I just thought when you're up it might not get you so down to talk about what's been on your mind. About what's been on all our minds. It might be easier, just the two of us here, talking about what's bothering us, with buttery goodness to help it go down easier."

"I'd rather just stay up if you don't mind." He reached for his beer again, and this time when he settled back against the couch, his beer came with him.

"Okay." Willow knew when to back off, but she told herself, as she fell silent and watched _The Simpsons _with him for a while, this was just a tactical retreat. At some point tonight she was going to gain some ground, even if it only turned out to be a hillock. "Is there any candy? It's Halloween, there's supposed to be candy."

"In the bowl on the bookcase. I was saving it for when the corn is done."

Willow got up to look, smiling happily when she realised just how much tooth-rotting badness was piled high in it. She took it back to the couch and chocolates, gummy bears, jelly beans, sour worms and hard candies nearly showered the floor as Xander suddenly grabbed the bowl from her.

"Hey!"

"Hey yourself." Xander hugged the bowl to his chest. "You're not having any."

"You're not the candy boss!"

"They're for the party. The party has a dress code. You're not observing the dress code; therefore you can't be at the party."

"The dress code?"

Xander removed the cushion from his lap and waved a hand down himself. "_I_ am observing the dress code."

"I'm not stripping down to my underwear, Xander."

"Then you better go watch TV upstairs with Vi."

"But I wanna spend the evening with you," she whined, meaning the candy and making a grab for the bowl.

"Then you do what you gotta do."

He picked out a particularly mouth-watering piece of chocolate, stuck it in his mouth and made nummy noises around it.

"Fine!" Willow stomped for the stairs. "I'll compromise."

* * *

Rona was still standing at the foot of the stairs looking up when the house hiccupped itself into a new reality. She grabbed the banisters when the shaking started, blinked a lot when the lights began flickering on and off, and was staring at the shiny black and white tiles in confusion when Dawn, Naomi and the other Slayers came running into the foyer in search of Reece and Kennedy.

"They're upstairs," she said, too distracted to explain further, and grabbed Miranda's arm as she passed. "But look."

"At what?" Alison looked around the foyer.

"The dry-leaf-and-dirty-foot-print free floor."

"What about it?" Naomi asked, looking at her feet.

"We don't have time for this." Dawn reminded them and they all ran up the stairs.

Rona stared after them and the tiles again. Apparently cleanliness was not a sign of evil then. They'd taken less interest than if she'd stopped them to point out that grass was green. She had to admit she agreed, it was just weird. Everything was weird. The music coming from the ballroom was weird. The suddenly sparkly clean house was weird. The fact that the chandelier above her head was no longer made of candle-shaped bulbs but from real white wax candles was weird. The grandfather clock opposite her suddenly chiming the hour when the hands hadn't moved all night was weird.

High school kids still wandered through the large foyer, but aside from complaints still being voiced about the music, none of them seemed to notice anything off. A couple heading for the living room were carrying fluted glasses of sparkling wine and paper plates piled high with pheasant legs, quail eggs and salmon sandwiches… The only food Rona could remember spotting was a dozen or so bags of Cheetos scattered about.

She looked around, spotting more differences, subtle and not so. Yeah, weird was the word here. She didn't know if there was a contingency plan for dealing with threats of spotlessness and materializing gourmet food, but if there wasn't she had an uneasy feeling they better start thinking one up.

Halfway up the stairs she heard irregular footsteps coming in the front door. Instinctively, she looked over the banisters to see who was joining the party so fashionably late and her eyes went wide. Late was the only thing they could be accused of being fashionable for.

The dude confidently entering the foyer was bald, hunchbacked and walked with a pronounced limp. Rona couldn't tell if his old fashioned surgeon scrubs were a costume or not, but she did know they really didn't go with his bowling shoes. He sure wasn't a high school student, and considering his manic grin, she had trouble believing he was just a concerned parent here to break up the party.

Unaware he had a spectator; he capered across the gleaming tiles deeper into the house. After only a moment's thought, Rona followed him into the living room filled with students.

Discreetly watching him make a circuit of the room, talking and laughing with the kids he passed, but never stopping long enough to let them get a good look at him, Rona ran her finger along the mantelpiece while she waited. It was completely dust-free. The living room back at the camp wasn't this undusty despite Andrew's best efforts. She looked up from frowning at her finger in time to see the stranger – the _stranger_ stranger – slipping back out of the room.

Aiming for the ballroom next, he likewise did a tour of the room, appearing to be looking for someone, but in no hurry to find them. For a half lame guy with a hump he was light on his bowling shoes. He tapped his way down the middle of the ballroom, grabbing a random girl halfway down and waltzing her in a circle like he was Fred Astaire. Rona smiled as he moved on, leaving the girl tottering on her heels and looking dizzy five feet from her date. Then something more interesting caught her eye and she stopped to take it in.

"Okay, that explains where the all the rich food they had came from," she murmured, staring at a banquet table that stretched nearly the length of the ballroom. "Doesn't explain where all _this_ rich food came from though."

The table had everything; so many plates and dishes it was a freaking miracle it wasn't collapsing. Although, she might be speaking too soon. The solid wood did look like it was buckling a little under the weight of the roast stag in the centre. How none of the kids thought this suddenly appearing feast was odd was… odd, but it made a little more sense why they were putting up with the classical music for so long.

Grabbing a couple of shrimps to go – all this shadowing was giving her an appetite – and looked around for her mark. He'd gone. After swiping a shrimp at the crab sauce, she quickly weaved her way back to the door, scanning the crowd.

He was entering a door further up the corridor so she held back for the time it took to eat a shrimp and then followed him into a packed study. It was a nicely decorated room, wealthy and elegant and all that – the students crammed in there didn't give a crap. Quasimodo didn't either. He mingled his way around the room, slapping the hand of one guy – who, by the way he looked at his palm after, hadn't enjoyed it much – and slyly stealing a bottle of vodka off the desk as he made his way back to the door.

Spotting Dawn's friends in the mess of people around the desk, Rona used them as an opportunity to slip away from the door as he approached.

"Hey, Rona, right?" Fen smiled. "Any idea where Dawn is?"

"Upstairs with Reece," Rona said without thinking.

Fen laughed delightedly. "I taught that girl well. Hey, babe, we should follow her example."

Rona had been watching the door, but her eyes went wide at the proposition. She was turning to say thanks but no thanks when she realised the chick was talking to a boy behind her.

'_Kennedy's got me hallucinating lesbians everywhere.'_ Smirking, she flicked her eyes back to the doorway to see her quarry leaving.

"Hey, Rona, you want some Vodka? Hey, where_ is_ the Vodka?" Fen started looking around for it.

Rona wasn't about to tell her it was walking out the door, that would just draw attention she didn't want drawn.

"I think there's some wine bottles going around. I'll go grab one." Rona said as an excuse to slip away.

As she left the room she saw him limping down a corridor opposite, swigging unashamedly from the pilfered vodka.

She moved closer, realising the further from the foyer and the ballroom the corridor went, the less kids there were. It was as if once the bright glares of the chandeliers gave way to the gas lamps they didn't dare to go any further. Not that any one except her seemed to notice that the gas lamps were now powered with actual gas instead of being electric look-alikes.

The fact that she noticed and nobody else seemed to didn't make her want to advance down the shadowy hallway much herself, but she was gonna do it. She was, just… in a minute. It wasn't fear that was stopping her from going further, it was intelligence. Obviously it was stupid to follow this guy into what looked like a dead end, all he'd have to do is turn around and she'd be busted.

At least, that's what she told herself as she waited to see what he was up to. And what was he up to? Was he just some local oddball that always came to high school parties? Could a guy that pricked a slayer's senses really be something that benign? Or was he a human monster, here to screw with the kids at the party, perhaps literally?

All the Slayers had heard about Dawn's heroic – although in Rona's personal opinion she felt the word foolish applied just as well, not that she was ever going to say so – capture of her sleazebag teacher. To be honest, it was the only thing Dawn was really known for in their circle. She wasn't a Slayer, she wasn't a Watcher, she didn't really do anything around the house like Andrew and Xander did. Dawn was just the baby of the original band of demon fighters, and Buffy's little sister too. So the bait and capture of her human monster teacher – and the fact that she was sort of dating Reece - were pretty much the only thing that made her worth talking about. In fact, it had been the first thing Fen had brought up when they had all been introduced earlier.

So with all that fresh in her mind, Rona reached into her pocket to touch the camera hiding there. Suddenly catching Reece cheating on film was the lesser of two evils she might snap tonight.

Halfway down the corridor the potential molester threw open a door and bounced excitedly through it. Rona waited until the door shut behind him and then it took three mental attempts at 'one two three go' before she actually managed to get herself moving towards the closed door.

A closed door was suspicious all on its own, not many other doors were closed and at first she assumed he was in there doing some nasty little thing alone, but as she drew closer, she could hear talking. Although she couldn't make out more than murmured conversation over the sounds of the party, intrigue kept her ear to the door.

* * *

"You made it." Owen smiled as his old friend barged into the room. "I was afraid you had decided not to come."

"And mith catching up with my favourite guyth? Never."

"No, that would be a shame," Victor might of muttered, but he made sure his mutter was loud enough for Igor to hear.

"Mathter!" Igor smiled; showing crooked, but surprising white teeth, and waved the bottle of vodka in Victor's direction.

The scientist looked away grumpily, not taking the offering, and Igor just smiled wider.

"Lighten up, Vic," Zeke growled from the hearth rug. "We've got bigger things to deal with."

"Tho I noticed," Igor said. "It'th wild out there."

"Did anyone folly yer?" Paddy asked, gesturing for the bottle of Vodka.

Iggy handed it over. "Oh yeth, young girl, African princeth ith I'm not mithtaken. I lead her a dance though, pretty thure I lotht her."

"The discouragement spell should keep them all ten feet from this door," Owen said, but he was still frowning.

He had put so much work into making tonight perfect and now it was all for nought. He had hoped, when the children first descended, that at the very least his cloak would not be breached. If that had been the case, both parties could have existed together peacefully without ever infringing on each other. That had been a vain hope. Someone, somewhere had played a very powerful trick on him tonight, tearing through his wards so suddenly that he and his friends had been forced to scamper like vermin to avoid being seen.

There were only two people in the area with enough raw energy at their fingertips to do such a thing to him. He couldn't imagine what Lucie would get out of ruining his party, except perhaps the displeasure it was causing him was reason enough for her; and as far as he knew, Ms Rosenberg was not even aware that there was anything here to uncover.

"…So here we are in our elegant yet rapidly tiring bolthole," the Count finished explaining the situation to Iggy.

"Why?" Iggy capered about in the middle of them, as excitable as ever.

"Cos thars aboyt two hundred nasty 'uman kids oyt dare!" Paddy bounced in his seat, his feet swinging wildly. "Dat's why."

"I resent that remark," Owen told him. "I'm human."

"Oi cadge yer pardon." Paddy apologised amiably.

"He's hit the nail on the head though," Ptah said.

"Why ith that a bother?" Iggy asked. "They're only little boyth and girlth. What can they do?"

"That is food for thought," Victor's friend intoned. "What can they do?"

"Point, stare, laugh. Some of us blend less than others." Zeke growled, pointing a long claw at his hairy face. "You included. You're nine feet tall with a big square head and a voice like a crumbling tombstone."

"There is no need to call names," Victor told him off pompously.

"Just statin' facts," Zeke muttered as he sat back to scratch under his shirt collar.

"Not one of us would pass as a high school child," Owen said, ending the bickering. "We'd be noticed immediately."

"Who careth? It'th your party."

"What are you suggesting?" Victor asked disdainfully. "That we run them out of the house?"

"Well, we are all creatures of the night, gentlemen," the Count smiled, warming to the idea immediately. "And I have always wondered what would happen if the mobbers became the mobbees. As a party game it would beat charades hands down."

"Aye, but de mobbers outnumber us twenty-five ter wan," Paddy reminded them.

"And they're aren't exactly mobbing us," said Ptah.

"Are you so scared of babies?" Victor's friend asked, his voice a hollow thunderclap of derision. "Or are you just scared that the babies are no longer scared of you?"

"Oi ain't scared av nathin', an if they ain' scar'd av me ter begin wi'," Paddy reached inside his green duffle coat and pulled out a carving knife nearly the length of his arm. "They soon 'ill be."

Owen glared at him until he put the knife sheepishly back inside his coat.

"I can't chase them," Zeke sounded disappointed. "Call me a coward if ya like, but they're just a bunch of walking, talking hormones. Just sitting here is making my hackles rise in that good tingly kinda way. If they start screaming and fleeing in terror, I'll be burying their bones in the back yard by morning."

"At least it will give you something to do next All Hallows Eve," Victor quipped. "You can dig them all up again."

"And then bury them again!" His friend chuckled.

"Great, play the stereotype card, that makes you sound really intelligent." Zeke growled at them.

Owen stood up quickly to intervene. "I think cabin fever is starting to set in. Let's all take a breath, settle down and remember that we are friends."

"No, Iggy is correct; we shouldn't be cowering like frightened villagers." The count stood up as well, his cold smile showing long, sharp incisors. "Already we leave the streets and fields safe for them on this night and now they are trying to drive us out of our private residences too? That is not acceptable. I say we go out there, run these walking blood-bags out and take back the party!"

"Here, here," Victor cheered, also standing up.

"That'th not what I'm thaying." Igor frowned at them. "Thee, thith ith why I rethined. You're alwayth tho anti-thocial!"

"Anti-social?" Victor fumed. "We're paranormal beings living on the fringe of an ignorant and uncaring society; we're not supposed to be social! We're freaks to them as much as they are freaks to us."

"Again with the stereotyping." Zeke got to his feet, all four of them, and shook himself.

"Yeth, ever thought that the reathon humanth are tho rude, callouth and judgemental ith becauthe they think we are?"

"What are you suggesting, Iggy?" Owen asked, although he had a feeling he knew. It wasn't a good feeling.

"That inthead of taking back the party, we join the party! They're having a blatht out there. We could have a blatht too and maybe help thupernatural/natural relationth along a little while we're at it."

"Yes, but there is a line you don't cross," Ptah said. "Things humans are better off not knowing. That's why we put the whammy on our homes and tombs; to keep people from finding out more than is good for them. I didn't spend the last three thousand years designing booby traps and perfecting curses just to wander out there now, shake some kid's hand and introduce myself."

"Use a false moniker," said the Count.

"A fake name isn't going to stop them from noticing my shroud."

"Pretend you are in cothtume." Iggy threw his arms wide as he beseeched them. "This is the night when everyone is in cothtume, we'll blend right in."

The room went quiet as everyone looked around at each other, waiting for the next objection to be raised. When they realised they were out of them, all eyes turned to Owen.

"Your house, your call," said Zeke.

""Yes, Olwyn, think about this," said Victor. "You are the one who has to live here with these people."

Owen did try to think about it sensibly. He knew rationally that to join the party with the students from McKinley High and Boudenver Academy was foolhardy; there would not be a single child in there that had not once come to him to exchange a sticky handful of nickels for candy. However his home had been invaded, his night had been ruined and he was angry. Not to mention he had spent a fortune – and not a small one – on the spread he had laid out and he was not okay with letting it be wasted on gluttons who would not know the difference between a venison burger and a Big Mac.

Making a decision he pulled on the lapels of his robe and raised his chin. "I think, as the host of this party, I should make an appearance."

"Yeth!" Iggy gave the air a victory punch.

Nobody argued with him. The Count's smile grew wider and slightly warmer. Victor sighed in defeat, drew a handkerchief from his pocket and helped his friend shine his bolts. Paddy finished the last of the Vodka and leapt down from his chair. Ptah went to the mirror to tidy and tuck in the loose ends of his bandages.

Zeke stood up on his hind legs and shook the creases out of his dress pants. "Should I tuck my tail in?"

"No, it makes your arse look fat," the Count said casually.

Owen addressed the group. "Let's not use the door, arriving en masse would send the children shrieking for the hills, costumes or not, which would no doubt endanger Zeke's human-free diet. I think heading through the back corridors and merging with the main house at different points will be the best way to avoid a slaughter-party."

"Nathin' wrong wi' a gran' slaughter-party," Paddy said.

"There is when we are the ones getting slaughtered," Victor put in.

"I would prefer no slaughtering of any kind in my house," Owen warned, before leading them towards a particular bookcase at the back of the room. "Are we all ready?"

He reached for a hardback copy of The Great Escape on the middle shelf and pulled it out. Sliding his fingers into the inch of space provided, he pressed the lever down and the bookcase swung outwards. He gestured for everyone to go through before stepping into the narrow passage himself and pushing the moveable bookcase back into the place.

"Why's it so feckin dark?" Paddy complained.

"Because we're between the walls of the house, nimrod." Zeke growled.

Owen made a fist with one hand and whispered to it.

"Here." When he opened his hand again eight female glow worms wriggled on his palm.

"You couldn't have conjured candles?" Ptah gingerly picked his up with a look of disgust.

"My man-servant would love some of these." The Count smiled broadly. "Do you have any spare, Olwyn? I would like to take him back some holiday candy anyway and this way I can use him as a night-light afterwards."

Victor picked up two and handed one to his friend before carefully inspecting his own. "You know, it might be possible to incorporate something like this into our next experiment."

"You would like me to eat glowing insects so that light will shine out of my stomach?" his friend asked in surprise.

"Actually I was thinking of putting them behind your eyes so that you always have light to see by." Victor explained.

"Come on," Iggy urged, turning and leading the way with his own light bug held out in front of him. "Let'th go dance!"

With the sigh of a man who knows he is doing the wrong thing, but is going to do it anyway, Owen brought up the rear. "Head for the back wall, the doors we want are at that end."

* * *

They had split into threes to search for Rona. Reece was wishing they had split into ones.

"I get it," Dawn was sniping. "You think you're the only one who gets to have relationship drama."

"You're not having relationship drama." Kennedy snapped back. "You're having a delusion."

"Just because you're a slayer doesn't give you the right to ride roughshod over people's feelings, you know." Dawn kept on.

"We were just talking!"

"Why did you have to talk to my boyfriend, why not talk to me?"

"Do you have any idea how pathetic and insecure you sound?" Kennedy asked scornfully.

"Yeah, well if I'm the kettle, you're the pot." Dawn shot back.

Reece did his best to ignore them and the headache he could feel getting worse as they searched room after room with no sign of his Slayer.

* * *

Rona was still listening. She hadn't been able to make out much of the conversation behind the door, but what she had heard had kept her glued to the spot.

Eventually the voices petered out. One minute they were there and the next they weren't. She knew it was time to take a peek behind the door, but she waited another five minutes first in case whoever was in the room had just run out of things to say. When she was convinced – sort of – that they were either dead or gone, she slowly twisted the door knob, pushed slightly and placed her eye to the crack. She could see chairs, but no one was sitting in them. Spurred on by this, she eased herself into the room.

Holding her breath, she listened for any tell-tale noises. Now she was a Slayer her hearing was so good she could hear Reece and Craig snoring from the other dormitory. If it was good for annoying the shit out of her, in other words, it should be good for saving her ass too. She could hear nothing beyond the party noises so she relaxed and, leaving the door wide open in case she had to make a fast exit, she took a look around.

There were six chairs in an informal circle and end tables scattered about. On one was the vodka bottle and on another was a nearly empty glass of something rich, red and with a tangy, coppery smell that made her nose wrinkle in disgust… blood!

Had that dude been a vampire? He might have been bumpy, but not in the way she expected of vamps. She had thought she was following some kind of sick psycho here to mess with the kids, but add in a glass of blood and sick psycho might be underestimating things.

Even more alert now, Rona kept looking, but there wasn't much more to see. There were other glasses on the tables in various stages of empty and full, but none of them looked or smelled like anything but alcohol. On the floor was a ceramic bowl half filled with beer and the hearth rug was covered in a light layer of brown hair.

The room was lined floor to ceiling with books. The tables and chairs and a desk took up the middle of the floor and a few free-standing bookshelves made it a cosy, closed in space by the fire. Walking around the outside of the room, Rona was able to make a complete circuit in less than a minute. It wasn't a big room and no one was hiding in it.

So where had the voices gone?

Rona walked around the room again, going the other way this time, mostly keeping her eyes on the floor or ceiling for trapdoors. She was along the back wall, her eyes just shifting from down to up when she spotted something weird. A whole case of books was a tad off-centre, throwing the line of the room out.

"Obvious," Rona muttered as she cautiously reached out and gave the bookcase a little push. It swung outwards, revealing a secret passage. "Too obvious? Probably."

She debated with herself for a minute. She didn't need Buffy or a Watcher to teach her that walking into the dark after an unknown number of mysterious people was a quick way to die. Fear for her own skin – and if a Vampire was in the mix, her own blood as well – was doing a good job of keeping her teetering on the brink of heroism. Unfortunately, she didn't need anyone telling her that a bunch of weirdo's – possibly including one or more vampires – stalking in secret around a house full of oblivious teenagers was something she couldn't ignore either.

In the end her fear and her calling came to a compromise. She would tail, but not engage… unless anything really bad went down right in front of her, and then she would engage with the nearest heavy thing to hand. She wished she'd worn an outfit more stake-accommodating. Lesson learned for next time.

Leaving the bookcase wide open to give her as much light as possible, she slipped in and along the brick-lined walkway in search of… who the hell knew.

* * *

Barnies was only getting busier as the night went on, not that Buffy and Faith really noticed.

Faith was laughing uncontrollably as Buffy had difficulty spitting a cherry stem out of her mouth.

"Here try it again." She threw another cherry – fresh not glace, hence the stems – into Buffy's glass, causing a mini geyser of green cocktail to spray up.

"No way?" Buffy spluttered. "I give up, you win, your tongue is a better boy scout than mine."

"You won't even try?"

"I've tried five times! Are you trying to choke me? And here I thought we were having such a nice time." Buffy grinned.

"I don't see how you don't get it," Faith laughed, sticking her fingers in Buffy's glass to retrieve her cherry. "I've been tying knots in cherry stalks since I was eight." Faith popped the whole thing in her mouth to demonstrate.

"Okay, first of all, that's very disturbing. Second of all, I always thought you were supposed to tie the fruit in a knot, no one told me about the stalk. I wasted my teenage years rolling the cherries around the tip my tongue."

Faith stared at her for a beat, not sure how to take that, and then burst out laughing again. "Hot and funny – who knew?" she teased.

Buffy playfully slapped the back of her hand. They were still sitting close, but not quite as close as earlier, Faith needed room to gesture after all.

"Did ya swallow the stalk too?"

Faith stuck out her tongue. There was the stalk with a knot in the middle.

"Ih hor ooh."

"What?" Buffy laughed.

Faith dry spat the stem onto the table. "I said: It's for you."

"Thanks, just what I always wanted." Buffy went to pick it up, but stopped her fingers just shy of it. "I'll treasure it, once it's dried off."

Faith grinned, looking around the bar for the next attraction. "Wanna go challenge Harry Potter and Elvis to a game of pool."

"Now there's not something you get to do every day," Buffy grinned too as she looked to see who Faith meant.

They were sat around the corner from the bar tonight, where usually only the old men sat supping from their tankards. There was a pool table back here that Buffy had never even noticed before and right now a wizard and an Elvis impersonator were just finishing up a game.

"You any good?"

"I just spent over four years in prison, B."

One of Buffy's brows hitched up. "And all ex-prisoners are eight-ball pro's?"

Faith chuckled, getting to her feet. "Only the ones who spent their entire incarceration playing on the table outside their cell in an effort to forget where the hell they were."

"Entire incarceration?"

"Well, there was yard exercise too, and the whole being locked in a cell for twenty hours a day."

"But you're pretty good?"

"I don't suck."

"You're going to shark them, aren't you?" Buffy realised with indelible certainty.

"Now why would I do a thing like that?" Faith's eyes sparkled and her dimples dimpled as she held her hands out to pull Buffy from her chair.

"Oh God!" Buffy groaned, but she was grinning as she followed Faith to the table.

To be continued some time next week - I'd promise, but you all know what my updating promises are like :)


	10. Act 3:3

Thanks for the reviews. Here's the next section of act 3. Its a long one and I hope it keeps you going for a little while 'cause for the next two weeks I have to concentrate on an assignment instead. Anyway, enjoy, and remember, reviews are always weclome.

* * *

Victor and his friend stood in a corner of the ballroom, their expressions haughty and bored respectively

Victor and his friend stood in a corner of the ballroom, their expressions haughty and bored respectively. Victor nibbled on a salmon sandwich; and a champagne flute was looking in danger of accidental crushing in his friend's hand.

This was not the scientist's idea of a good time at all. He looked forward to this gathering every year as a place where he could talk science and history and technology with people from his own era. With people who didn't chase you with a flaming torch just because occasionally you needed to kill a virgin in order to further scientific discovery.

"I don't know what is worse," his friend – who only came to the gatherings because he did – suddenly started a conversation. "When they openly stare in disgust or when they pretend not to see me at all."

"Don't be silly. There is nothing wrong with how you look," Victor chided, either being kind or blinded by affection. "It's just that you are so tall. Perhaps if you slouch a little?"

"You always tell me not to slouch."

Victor sighed at the pitfalls of early mental conditioning. "Then let us stand closer to the stage. You can sit on the edge and you will not appear so towering."

They did a sideways shuffle to where Victor was pointing. With his eyes straight ahead and his back very stiff, his friend lowered himself to the edge of the stage.

"There, that is better." He patted the big man on the shoulder and activity further up the stage caught his attention. "Now, I wonder what they are doing."

Four boys were fussing and fretting over some technical equipment that was sparking raw magic out of its antennas. It was very obviously a conductor of some kind, possibly a transmuter, but it wasn't a style he had ever come across before.

Always on the look out for fresh ideas for the lab, Victor patted his friend on the shoulder again. "Stay here a minute. I'm just going to see if they need any help."

On the other side of the ballroom, having come out of a different door, Ptah stood nervously by the edge of the dance floor with Zeke. Together they commented on the skill of the dancers – which wasn't in abundance – and, well, the pretty girls.

It wasn't long though before the youthful exuberance of the crowd started getting to Zeke. "I'm going out for a cigarette. You want one?"

"I don't smoke. Why are you going outside? No one else is bothering." Ptah did not want to be left alone.

"I need to take a leak as well." Zeke explained.

"How do you cock your leg when you're wearing pants…?" Ptah began, but then decided he wasn't that curious and waved his hands in front of him. "Forget I asked."

Zeke gave him a toothy grin and answered anyway. "Not easily. I'll be back in a minute."

When Ptah was alone he looked around, rubbing the bandages on the back of his neck self-consciously and trying not to make eye-contact with anyone. It wasn't that he was a timid man usually. Back in his own youth he'd been quite the animal, he never missed a toga party, but these days he didn't get out much and while his pyramid might be crowded, it wasn't particularly noisy and the dead servants in their with him couldn't exactly be called boisterous. Even the guards killed and embalmed to protect him just laid there dead these days – very unprofessional. If their commanders hadn't perished three thousand years ago he'd have had them fired.

Suddenly eye contact was unavoidable – a shaven haired youth had been heading drunkenly off of the dance floor straight for him. At first Ptah held his breath and the boy seemed ready to walk right by him, but the boy happened to look to the side just at the wrong moment. He stopped, still looking sideways and then very slowly he took a few steps backwards until they were standing face to face. The lad studied him closely as if trying to remember him and Ptah still held his breath and fought the urge to hide behind closed eyelids.

"You came in costume?" The youth finally asked in a loud, disdainful voice. "What are you? Ten?"

"I… I thought it was an All Hallows Eve party," Ptah stammered. Were these brats not in costume then? Did they really wear those garish, impractical clothes all year round?

"You're one of the Bou geeks, ain'cha?"

Ptah said nothing because he didn't understand the question.

"So what are you supposed to be then? Mr Bump?"

This was insulting. The boy didn't even know what he was dealing with, let alone who.

"I'm a Mummy!" he said indignantly.

The boy gave him another good hard look before shaking his head slightly. "Nah, no offence, but you look nothing like The Mummy."

"What?" Ptah fumed, but the boy had already meandered off the floor now.

Suddenly feeling very warm beneath his shroud and bandages, he went outside after all to find Zeke. He was just zipping himself up with one hand and lighting a cigarette with the other.

"I've changed my mind, give me a cigarette," Ptah demanded. "It's not like one's going to kill me. Not like any will kill me."

Zeke shook his pack out and offered them without comment, aware his friend was more agitated than five minutes ago. "What happened?"

"The nerve!" Ptah leaned forward to accept a light from Zeke and then took a few fast puffs before letting his hand drop to his side.

He began to tell the story, still full of righteous indignation, when he smelled smoke.

"Ow, ow, ow." He dropped the cigarette and patted at his thigh where his shroud had caught fire and the loose bandage around his arm then attracted the flame. "Damn, Zeke, do something! I'm practically made of sawdust these days!"

Zeke helped him pat the fire out, singing a little hair himself and a few moments later Ptah was breathing hard as he checked his outfit – it was mostly just the loose ends of his bandages that had gone up, the only real lasting damage being the smell of smoke than clung to him. He stamped on the remains of his cigarette.

"I think I just remembered why I don't smoke."

Meanwhile, Iggy was oblivious to his friend's bonfire as he sat in the study – where earlier he had stolen the Vodka – and dealt out a hand of poker. None of the kids in there seemed to take any notice of his unusual appearance or his superior age. He liked to think it was because he was jovial person who could get on with anyone, but he'd been around enough to know it probably had more to do with the two full bottles of champagne he'd brought in with him and the fact that he had deliberately lost the first two hands and they were winning his money.

"Right, five card draw, deutheth are wild, ten buckth in the pot to play." He grinned to himself as six lads all put ten dollars onto the table.

He'd lose one more, just to be on the safe side and then he would start playing for real. He looked up with a surprisingly handsome smile as a young lady came and sat on the arm of his chair.

"Kith for luck, my love?" he asked cheekily.

Giggling, she kissed him on his lumpy forehead.

* * *

"Come on, Faith. You can get this," Buffy grinned across the green baise at her.

Faith nodded, biting her lip as she leaned slightly this way and slightly that to check her angle. It wasn't the easiest shot in the world. She only had the eight ball left to pocket. Elvis and Harry Potter still had a couple of stripes left on the table, but they were good players. If she didn't pot this, they would clear up, and if by luck they didn't? Well, it would be Buffy's turn again and who knew who would get the concussion this time.

Faith leaned low, spreading her upper body across the table and pulled her cue back. She couldn't see all of the black eight ball, there was a green, stripey one blocking a crescent of it, but if she could bounce the cue ball gently off the closest cushion and crack it just so; the money ball was going in the designated pocket like a ferret down a rabbit hole.

She took a deep breath, aware that if she did miss this, she was gonna be missing it in front of half the bar. The whooping and hollering of the last four games had drawn quite a crowd around the table and now, Presley and Potter, sensing her attempt at deep concentration, were starting to playfully smack talk her.

Blocking them all out, she drew the cue back a little further and steadied it, tilting the thumb she was using as a rest up a little higher for a better angle.

"You can do it, baby." Buffy said excitedly from the behind the elected pocket.

Faith glanced up with a cocky smile as she started to bring the cue forward, but her eyes bulged and she just managed to raise the cue tip before it could miss-hit the white ball. Buffy was leaning right over the table encouragingly, not realising she was letting everyone on this side of the room look straight down her cardboard-stiff sparkly bodice.

"What's wrong?" Buffy asked worriedly.

Faith laughed, but decided not to embarrass her. "Nothin'. It's just looking at you is kinda distracting."

"Oh," Buffy smiled, obviously pleased with her distracting influence. "I'll step this way a little then."

She moved to the other side of the table and stood beside it. There was some humorous booing from the men behind Faith, but all it took was one lightening fast turn and a glare so strong it forced several of the men to lean back in their seats, and they all shut up, holding their hands up apologetically. They might not know her yet, but they clearly weren't too stupid.

With another smile at Buffy, Faith leaned back over the table and went through her lining up process again. Once more the crowd went silent with anticipation and this time Faith didn't disappoint. On your marks, get set, POW!

The eight ball practically burned a trail through the baize on its way to sinking into the pocket with a satisfying thunk.

Some of the crowd clapped. Buffy jumped up and down doing some kind of funny cheer routine.

Faith held the cue above her head in a victory pose before pointing it at Elvis. "That's match."

"Best of seven?" he asked hopefully.

"Not tonight, dude. Time to cash the chips."

Sighing, he went to the bar. Faith put the cue back in the wall rack as Buffy came to give her a loose hug. She didn't have time to return it before Buffy was stepping back again and then Harry Potter was shaking her hand.

"That was a blast," he said. "We should definitely do it again sometime."

"Maybe," Faith smiled politely. "But I think I probably just used up all my beginners luck in one go."

She saw Buffy smirk at her. Hey, so she was incurable, so what? If you got all cocky you could only fleece them once, but if you acted unsure of yourself, you could come back to fleece them again and again. It was just good business sense.

Elvis came back with a jug of beer in one hand and a jug of the green cocktail in his other. They'd probably cost him plenty, but Faith had gotten the feeling that Buffy would prefer betting for drinks than for cash so she had suggested it.

"Thanks," Faith took them both from him and started to turn away. "See you around."

"Hey, do you mind if we come and join you?" Potter asked.

Faith looked at Buffy, not knowing what to say. She sure as hell didn't want two strangers sitting with them, but would Buffy think she was a complete bitch if she told them so.

"Actually, you seem like nice guys, but we're kind of on a date," Buffy spoke up, surprising the hell out of Faith with her bluntness.

"Well," Elvis looked around the bar and then over to their table. "I think they've left without you. Which is bad, and I'm sorry, but it's also good, because now you can spend the rest of the evening with us." He gave a bright grin and held his arms out, trying to sell his offer.

Faith stared at him, so did Buffy, and then they turned and stared at each other for a beat. Faith cracked up at his cluelessness, not even bothering to hide it. Buffy did her best though as she explained.

"No, I mean _we're _on a date. _Together. _As in…" Buffy went to take her hand, but Faith was still holding the two jugs of alcohol. She put her arm around Faith's shoulders instead. _"Together."_

Harry Potter's mouth had dropped open and looked like it was going to stay there for a while. He was blushing too, which seemed a bit extreme for a guy her own age, but the boys here probably lead pretty sheltered lives – all barn dances and hay rides around here.

Elvis just grinned. "You're kidding, right?"

They both shook their heads.

"You're really…?"

They both nodded their heads.

"Damn, what a waste," he winked at Faith and then turned to rack up another game of pool for him and his buddy.

Harry continued to stare boggle-eyed at them. When it grew uncomfortable, Faith nodded for Buffy to follow her back to their table.

"You okay?" she asked as they took their seats again.

"Very okay," Buffy grinned, taking her straw out of her empty glass and sticking it into her jug of cocktail.

Faith chuckled. "I mean about the whole 'coming out to virtual strangers' thing?"

Buffy stopped slurping and looked up. "Oh. Yeah, I think so. Anyway it was funny, and they took it okay, right? Not that it matters if they didn't, but they did… right?"

"Yeah, they didn't seem bothered. Little disappointed maybe that I'm off the market," she grinned. "I just didn't think you'd wanna do it like that, or this soon."

Buffy shrugged again. "I'm happy, I'm having a good night, and…" she grinned at her jug of greenness, she'd already done some major sucking and it hadn't even made a dent yet. "…I'm a little drunk. Plus I didn't want to have to share you any more tonight. Pool was fun, but I want some more me and you time now. I'll admit, if all of those stars hadn't aligned together just now, maybe I wouldn't have been quite so brave quite so soon, but they did and I'm not gonna feel bad about it."

Faith nodded. As answers went, it was a good one.

"Oh, but," Buffy dropped her straw and laid her hand on Faith's arm. "You were okay with that, right? It didn't make you uncomfortable me blurting it out? I didn't even think. I know we haven't talked about that yet and what with everyone back at the camp already knowing before it happened and the whole taking it slow thing, it's not seemed all that urgent, but maybe you didn't want the whole world knowing yet and I should have checked with you before opening my big mouth…"

Faith leaned sideways so she could kiss Buffy on the lips. She didn't linger, didn't try to make it more than an affectionate peck, before leaning away again.

"Would I have done that if I had a problem with people knowing about us?"

Buffy shook her head, touching her lips lightly, "Only in opposite world."

Faith chuckled and took a series of length swallows straight from the jug of beer. Wiping her lips after and accidentally smudging some of her carefully applied zombie make-up – which didn't make a lot of difference – Faith stood up again.

"Come on, I wanna dance with you."

Buffy giggled, not moving. "That's not how you do it."

"Huh?"

"Date rules, remember? Ask, don't tell."

Faith smirked as she tried to decide between the urge to just throw Buffy over her shoulder and carry her to the dance floor and doing it the way Buffy wanted. It wasn't easy, but she chose the Buffy way in the end.

Leaning down until her mouth was close to Buffy's ear, she asked, "Will you do me the honour of swaying, grinding and generally wrapping your smart, interesting, sexy body around mine for a few songs." She held out her hand.

Buffy grinned as she accepted Faith's hand. "Well seeing as you asked so nicely."

Laughing, Faith pulled her towards the busy dance floor.

* * *

Back at the camp, the pizza delivery guy timed it perfectly by arriving at the end of the first movie.

"You go," Xander nudged her with his elbow when the doorbell rang.

"No you go." She nudged him back. "It might be monsters and you'll need to protect me, or at least let it eat you to give me time to escape."

"Since when are scared of monsters?" He grabbed his wallet from the coffee table, but didn't make any move to get up.

"Uh, always, but even more so since you just made me watch that film." She shuddered at the memory. "Monsters are scary enough, why do they have to have tentacles to go on top? It's overkill, scary overkill."

Xander held some money out to her just as the doorbell rang again. "I can't go. I'm in my underwear."

Willow gestured at herself. "So am I!"

"No, you're in skimpy pyjamas; it's not indecent exposure if it's sexy."

Willow grinned happily at his assessment, but shook her head again when he tried to push the money at her.

"It might not be classed as indecent exposure, but I'm still leaving a little less to the imagination of a pizza boy than me or the law is comfortable with."

Vi suddenly stomped down the front stairs. "We have one pizza firm that'll deliver out here and you're pissing them off by not answering the door?"

"We're a little underdressed," said Willow, and then regretted it when Vi looked over, her eyes going wide, before slamming them towards the front door again as she opened it.

"It's not what you're thinking," Xander chuckled nervously.

"I'm not thinking anything," Vi replied, but she sounded more like she just wished she wasn't.

She spoke to the pizza boy, walked close enough to grope for the money in Xander's hand without looking at them and then walked back to the door again. She paid, accepted the two large pizzas, said goodbye and closed the door again.

"It's really not," Willow promised. "It's just an underwear party." She winced. "And I'm not even in my underwear, I'm wearing pyjamas."

Vi looked over again and then slammed her eyes to the front once more. "O-okay."

Willow looked down at the dark blue mid-riff baring silky chemise and the matching short-shorts in case she had actually had just put on underwear instead. "They are pyjamas!"

"It's okay, I believe you," Vi all but stammered. "You're just sitting in the dark, in your underwear, watching porn, no big deal."

"What?"

Willow and Xander's eyes both shot to the television in time to see a woman shedding her clothes with blissful abandon inside what looked to be a wooden cage in the centre of a mud hut village. The next movie had started.

"No, she's about to turn into a werewolf," Willow explained, turning back to Vi, but the girl had already rushed up the stairs to get away.

"That was awkward." Willow muttered, settling back to watch the film.

"Well, providing she doesn't actually tell her fanciful tale to Giles, I think we'll be okay." Xander leaned back too, turning the volume up a little so they could really enjoy the screaming terror as the nubile werewolf tore first through her cage and then the foolish villagers.

After a few minutes of gratuitous on-screen violence, he realised something was missing. "She took both pizzas upstairs!"

"Well you paid for them, go and get one." Willow nudged him.

"Corner her in my bedroom, in my underwear and demand she gives me what she owes me? With what she's already thinking, I don't think so. You go."

"That's almost as bad," Willow pointed out.

They looked at each other trying to figure out how to get their pizza.

"You know, she's a Slayer," Willow suddenly thought. "AKA Pizza Guzzler. I bet she planned this."

"You think she answered the door, embarrassed us with her pornographic accusations and then ran from our potentially amorous and molestious selves just so she can eat both pizzas?" Xander asked incredulously.

"Yep," Willow nodded confidently. "And it's worked like a charm."

Xander sat back again, smiling slightly. "We should put her on the Council's tactical team."

"I didn't know the Council had a tactical team anymore."

"Then we should put her in charge of forming the Council's tactical team," he said with an even wider smile.

Willow thought about it and then thought about how Vi was upstairs right now enjoying two pizzas and how neither of them was sure enough her ruse was a ruse to go and find out.

Eventually she said, "You should speak to Giles about it."

"You think?"

"Well having one person on the tactical team has got to be better than none, right?"

* * *

Rona crept through the near absolute darkness between the walls. It wasn't completely black. The light from the open bookshelf didn't reach this far in, but there was a slit of a window at the other end letting in greyer darkness from outside. That didn't help her see her hand in front of her face, but it did allow her to see the first door.

Half way up the wall was a green and white glow in the dark sign bearing the word EXIT in block letters. She stared at it for a long time, wondering who the hell would put signs like this in a secret tunnel – a very health and safety conscious someone obviously. She put her ear to the door, but could hear nothing but her own elevated heartbeat and so groped the door until she found a handle. It was a short lever; as she slowly pushed it down there was a click and the door came towards her just a little bit.

Only more darkness leaked through the crack.

She hesitated just a second before pulling it open and sticking her head in. Yeah, that was just a whole lot of darkness. If the freaks she was following had gone in there, they couldn't be doing much but sitting really quietly. Rona could sense it was a closed in space with no windows and no way out except the doorway she was standing in even without being able to see a thing. Which was actually pretty cool, but not exactly a skill that would take her far. The room was probably a closet or store room, not worth tripping over things in the dark to explore.

The thought did occur to her 'Why would someone build a store room you could only get into and out of through a corridor too narrow to carry much more than a broom down?' but, like the exit signs, it wasn't a question her frightened brain could give time to. Focusing on one thought – finding the party crashers – was the only way she could keep putting one foot in front of the other.

She pushed the door shut again until she heard it click and carried on down the passage. The brick on either side of her was cold but not damp and it smelled more dusty than musty. There would probably be footprints to follow if she had any light to follow them with. From all around her the muted sounds of the party – music, chatter, laughter, drunken idiots – filtered through the walls.

She had only gone maybe fifteen feet when she came to another faintly glowing exit sign. She pressed her ear to the door, heard nothing and started feeling for the handle when she heard something that made her freeze.

Footsteps.

Holding her breath, Rona instinctively flattened herself against the wall – not that it would do any good in this tight space – and tried to tell where they were coming from and where they were going to. All she could figure was that they were definitely inside the walls with her – not a comforting thought. The hobnailed boots she could hear rang out dully on the same cold stone that was beneath her own feet. Other than that, the sounds of the party and the echo-y blackness stretching in both directions made it impossible for her to pinpoint the direction of the noise, only that it was coming closer.

Not waiting for the owner of those heavy sounding boots to come any nearer, Rona pulled the lever down on the door behind her and slipped straight in, more worried about what was coming at her than what she was backing into.

Pulling the door shut, she leaned against the tallboy disguise, still able to hear the approaching boots. They got louder and louder.

"Please don't be coming in here," she murmured. "_Please _don't be coming in here."

Mind you, if it was a Vampire it wouldn't need to enter the room to know she was there. Hadn't Spike once said he could smell human fear a mile off? If that was true, to a Vampire she was probably stinking the whole house out. Not to mention the fact that they had hearing even better than hers. She held her breath again, but could do nothing about the pounding of her heart.

Finally the footsteps seemed to pass the door and keep going. She let out her breath and stood there panting for a few moments, getting air into burning lungs again. Only then did she turn around… very slowly, because suddenly the fear had gripped her that the monster was actually standing right behind her in the darkness.

It wasn't and unless anyone was hiding behind the antique furniture she was alone. The room was dark, obviously the partying teens hadn't strayed this far into the house yet, but moonlight shone through half a dozen windows along one wall making long patches of light and shadow across the room. It was a dining room, although not one like she had ever seen outside of the pages of Ideal Home magazine. A table of shiny wood was in the centre with room for twelve straight-backed chairs around it. There was a sideboard with a finely painted dinner service stacked on it. There were still-life oil paintings of various fine foods hanging on the walls. There was a gramophone on a table in one corner. There was a door!

She went to it, deciding being a hero was much more fun when she wasn't doing it alone and found out that it wasn't _just_ a door, it was a locked door.

Sighing in resignation, she turned to go back the way she had come, but paused long enough to look for anything useful she could take with her. There was a candle in a fancy holder in the centre of the table, but no matches that she could see. She pulled out the drawers in the sideboard and found a tray of silver cutlery.

"Sweet!"

She grabbed a silver knife first of all, blunt as butter but that wouldn't matter with her strength, and then realised it wouldn't do anything to a vampire, unless the vampire stayed still long enough for her to cut through his neck. In the end she dropped the knife again and grabbed a wooden spoon instead. As an afterthought she grabbed a knife again too and stuck it in her pocket.

It took her a second to find the lever on this side of the door, she had to pull some drawers filled with crisp white table linen out of the way first, reach in and feel about for it. Once it clicked down, she gently eased the door outwards, listened for any sound and then slipped back out into the dark passage. She started walking towards the window at the end again, the wooden spoon held tightly in her fist.

* * *

"Every other sentence that comes out of your mouth these days starts with either 'Reece' or 'my boyfriend'," Kennedy sniped as she stuck her head in the study to look for Rona. "Have you never heard of having your own identity?"

"You went behind my back to my… him instead of coming to me with your problems!" Dawn argued. "Haven't you ever heard of sister solidarity?"

"If they're my problems I can talk to who I like about them." Kennedy snapped.

"And how would you like it if I was all curled up in a bed with Willow telling her my problems?" Dawn snapped back.

There was a corridor leading away from the foyer on the other side. It didn't look particularly suspicious except for the fact that none of the rooms seemed to have been opened up for the party and considering how many kids were crammed into every other room on the ground floor it stood out.

The corridor was blissfully shadowy and empty and Reece probably would have walked right by without even noticing it if he hadn't been scouring every inch of the place for Rona.

"We weren't in it; we were on top of it!" Kennedy said.

"Correction, you were on top of each other." Dawn said.

Okay, they were back to the beginning of the argument now and they hadn't needed him the first time around, so…

"Girls, you keep checking this side of the house, I'm going to go and check the other side."

"Shouldn't we all stick together?" Kennedy asked as she moved to the next doorway.

He had suggested that when the six of them had first split into the threes. Just in case whatever had created the sudden magical disturbance in the house was a threat, but now he just shook his head fast.

"We'll search faster if we split up."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Dawn asked with a smile.

"No!" He said quickly. "You both stay together and…" he turned away "…not near me."

He could hear their bickering start all over again as he walked down the shadow filled hallway and heaved a sigh of relief to be away from it for a little while.

Dawn could whine for the United States in the Maddening Olympics and if there was a 'stubborn as a mule' category too, it would be a photo finish between the two girls.

One door down the hallway stood wide open allowing soft light to fall into the corridor. As he stepped inside he noticed it was coming from several gas lamps set around the walls as well as a fire in the hearth. It was a library, but he resisted his natural inclination to touch and read and absorb and followed his equally natural curiosity instead.

There was a bookcase at the back of the room that had been pushed inwards to create a doorway into a dark space beyond. His excitement grew as the adventurous little boy inside of him woke up. He had read enough Enid Blyton as a child to be unable to refuse the chance at an honest to goodness secret passage way.

He rationalised it easily. They had checked everywhere else in the house and found no Rona, which meant she had to be someone where hidden. Secret passages were about as hidden as you could get. Therefore, he should check the secret passage way for Rona.

He shut the door and turned the key in the lock so that no one could follow him into the room. As an afterthought he pocketed the key too so that no one coming out of the passage way could leave either, and then, knowing full well that if Rona had suddenly popped up all safe and sound and no longer missing, he'd still be doing this, he slipped through to the darkness behind the bookcase.

It really was dark, which was probably a mandatory for hidden ways, but a few fiercely burning torches along the brick walls would have taken away none of the adventure, but most of the stumbling.

"Let there be light," he said with laughter in his voice and flicked on his Zippo lighter. "See, now if only one of the Famous Five had smoked, they'd have had things much easier."

Feeling much happier than he had since following Kennedy up the stairs to that bloody bedroom, he set off to explore… and find Rona of course.

* * *

They had danced to fast songs first and Buffy had, as requested, swayed, grinded and generally wrapped herself around Faith. It had been fun and not just a little arousing.

Their dancing back when things were good between them in Sunnydale – all seven days of it – had sometimes blurred the line between friendly and down-right sexy anyway and the feelings that had left her with had confused the hell out of her Angel-loving self. Now she knew what those feelings were and she knew it was okay, better than okay even, to enjoy them and, damn it, she was.

When a love ballad replaced the house that had been playing Faith took her hand again to lead her back to the table. Buffy didn't move and when her arm was at full stretch, Faith turned to see what was going on.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Faith pointed her free hand over her shoulder, "To my beer."

"Nope." Buffy shook her head.

"No?" Faith raised an eyebrow.

"It's your turn to wrap around my body."

"I'm all for that, babe," Faith grinned. "Let's grab our coats and go home. I promise to wrap myself all over you."

Buffy rolled her eyes and tugged hard on Faith's hand, pulling her close. "Dance," she demanded. "And I won't hold that comment against you."

Faith didn't give in that easily. She looked around at the other couples.

"I don't like dancing this slow. It feels wrong."

"How can it feel wrong? It's just you and me same as before, just slower."

"It's too…" Faith looked away, frowning slightly. "I don't know."

"It's too what, Faith?" Buffy pushed. "Too girly, too romantic, too 'on show', too…"

"Intimate," Faith interrupted.

"Too intimate?" Buffy frowned. "How can it be too intimate? We're not baring our souls. It's just dancing."

"No it's not. It's all about eye contact and smouldering gazes and bodies rubbing together and friction and heat and being able to feel our hearts beating in time."

As Faith spoke, she also demonstrated. Buffy ended up with one of Faith's arms around her waist, her other hand was holding Buffy's between their body's, between their breasts even, and as for smouldering gazes, Buffy couldn't breathe, let alone blink.

"It's making love standing up with our clothes on." Faith said, letting her arm drop from Buffy's waist. Smirking lightly, she added, "And we're not there yet, are we? I mean, if you're not ready for screwing you can't be ready for making love, that's way heavier."

Buffy's eyes narrowed in annoyance, but instead of saying anything she might regret she put her free arm around Faith's neck and gently wrestled for control of their hands until she was holding Faith's against the curve of her breast, over her heart. She felt Faith tense all over and ignored it as she pressed their bodies as close together as they could be and let her chin rest of Faith's shoulder so she could whisper into her ear.

"I get it. You're afraid of intimacy. The thought of letting your walls down in public, probably even just in front of me, is freaking you out. So much so that you're trying to piss me off to get out of it. That's not gonna happen, Faith. Or yeah, you pissing me off is happening right now, but you getting out of it, no. I know all about your get some and get gone philosophy, remember? And I'm sure it's a hard habit to break, but if you wanna be with me you gotta get over thinking that way."

They had started dancing, Buffy leading, Faith following as stiff as a dead board. She was deliberately looking away from Buffy and breathing kinda hard and kinda angrily. Buffy didn't know it was possible to breathe angrily, but apparently it was. She would have stopped there, and possibly started running for her life, but the fact that Faith was dancing despite being so angry only convinced Buffy she was right.

Still, softening her rightness couldn't hurt. "Freaking out is okay, by the way. I didn't mean to imply there is anything wrong with freaking out. It's just if you give in to it we'll never get anywhere and I want to get somewhere with you. Perhaps if we talked about…"

Faith interrupted her. "You want to get somewhere with me?"

"Yes, of course."

"You want to have a relationship with me?"

"Yes! That's my point. I don't want to just fool about; I want a proper relationship with you, which is why things like dancing are so important."

"But only if it's all on your terms."

"What?"

"B, you don't want me, you want some kind of… Faithbot!"

Buffy chuckled, "You wanna here a funny story about 'bots…?" she caught sight of Faith's expression. "…okay, not really the time for funny stories. Look, Faith, you're being ridiculous. The only reason I'd want a Faithbot is if I wanted to have a threesome with the two of you."

"Ya see, I have an opinion on our…" Faith began and then paused with a faraway look as she got the threesome visual. She seemed to like it, but quickly shook it out of her head. "…on our 'relationship' and you automatically think it's ridiculous."

"Well, you were talking about robots."

"No. I was talking about how absolutely everything has to be your way."

"Oh, you were?" Buffy asked. Faith nodded. "Well, that's ridiculous." Faith tried to step away, but Buffy wouldn't let her. "I'm serious. You make me sound like I'm trying to control you and I'm not."

"Not me. Us."

"Like when? You were the one who asked me on a date tonight, you picked the place, you picked all the activities, how am I'm controlling everything?"

"I told you I didn't want to dance to this crap and you wouldn't even listen."

"Oh, I ask for one thing and suddenly I'm Miss Controller. Sounds to me like you're the one who wants to control everything."

Faith pulled away enough to untangle her hand and loosely cup the side of Buffy's neck. "You're still not listening. You still think I'm thinking like I used to. Get some, get gone, you said it yourself. Use 'em and lose 'em was another. When have I given you the idea that I'm thinking that way about you?"

"Um, let me see," Buffy pretended to think about it. "How about when you slept with me and then disappeared before I even woke up, leaving a note that turned out to be a pack of lies? Although that's kind of an obvious one. How about when you failed to come home when you got released from prison and left me not knowing…?"

"Oh forget it," Faith pulled away completely and started to walk off. "You're never gonna let that go so what's the point."

Buffy reach for and caught her hand, yanking it so hard Faith twirled back towards her, their bodies thudding together. A few people looked over, but they were ignored by the Slayers. Buffy wrapped her arms tight around Faith's neck – if she was walking off again, Buffy was going along for the ride.

"You asked a question, I answered it. As for whether I'm ever gonna let it go – that depends on you."

"No, Buffy, it doesn't. You can keep saying that, but it really depends on you. You were right; intimacy scares the crap out of me. The only times I've been _intimate_ with someone before haven't exactly been experiences I'm in a rush to repeat. Intimacy is a bad friggin' word as far as I'm concerned. Okay? But that's not why I didn't want a dance with you."

"Then why?"

"I told you! Dancing this close to you is driving me friggin' nuts. Being able to feel you against me, hearing you breathing in my ear, the smell of your hair and your skin and… _damn!_ All this touch, but don't touch….its not natural. And I don't know whether you can turn yourself off and not think about it or whether you just don't want me all that much in the first place, but I'm going crazy over here and I don't mean the good, fun let's kill people kind of crazy, I'm talking the proper dribbling over myself and banging my head on the wall crazy. And I felt like that before we started dancing, and I felt like it before we left the porch tonight and I felt like it before I left your bedroom last night and… and I'm not saying you have to have sex with me or I'll lose it, or… or maybe I am, I don't even know right now because your… your… parts of you are all smooshed up against me and, wow, this must be what it feels like to be Willow. I really need my beer now," she pleaded.

Another song had ended and a new one begun during Faith's enlightening speech. Buffy thought about letting her off the hook and then thought '_Nah.' _and kept her arms around Faith's neck. She did try to be a little less smooshy though, she wasn't a complete bitch.

"Just dance to the end of this song, please?" She batted her eyelashes and tried not to grin when it worked.

Faith groaned into her ear. "This is what I meant about being controlling. You like knowing I want to fuck you so bad it hurts because it gives you power over me. You only make out with me at night because you know it gets me all worked up and you like knowing I'm in the next room riding my fingers hard and thinking of you."

Arousal made Buffy tingle. "I didn't even know you did that."

"Everyone does that."

"I mean," Buffy swallowed and smooshed herself just a little closer. She felt Faith shiver. "I didn't know you did it because of me so I couldn't have been using it against you."

"Well now you know. What about you?"

"Like you said, everyone does."

"You know what I mean."

Buffy didn't have to answer. She could change the subject, she could suggest they finally go and get their drinks, but could she really give Faith a hard time about honesty and intimacy and then not offer it herself. Wasn't that being exactly as controlling as Faith said she was?

"Every night as soon as you close the door. Usually on top of the covers 'cause I like fantasizing you're gonna come back in for something and catch me." Buffy hid her blushing face in the crook of Faith's neck and bit back her smile. "There, now we have equal ammunition."

For the first time since asking for a slow dance, Buffy was actually getting one, probably only because she had just rendered Faith speechless. She'd managed that a few times now and it never got boring. She relaxed into the arms that were around her waist, feeling them tighten as she did, and listened to the sound of Faith's hot and bothered breathing which was doing nothing to calm the excitement in her either, but she had more practise at not acting out every desire.

Faith might have been right with everything she had said about dancing, but it was that and more for her. She enjoyed the closeness as much as anything, the romantic element, the slow burn of anticipation that Faith was obviously too horny these days to appreciate.

"So if we both feel like this," Faith said slowly halfway through the song. "Why aren't we doing something about it together?"

"Because I want to wait…"

"And there ya go being all about you again. I thought it took two people to make a relationship."

"…and make it perfect!" Buffy finished in a tone that made it clear the interruption was not appreciated.

"The sex is already damn near perfect, B!"

"Not the sex, us! I don't want to just have sex with you. Either of us could do that with anyone. I want to have a relationship with you. You keep throwing that word at me tonight and do you even know what it really means? It's not just about jumping each others bones all the time. It means talking and sharing and laughing and dating and… and _dancing, _even if it makes you crazy."

"We've done all that tonight, right?" Faith asked. "I've proved I can do all that. So why are we _still_ waiting?"

"Because these things take time," Buffy sighed. "At least if you do them right they do. I don't want just six months of good dates and great sex with you Faith; I want a forever of it. And right now I'm scared if we start rushing to get to the great parts and miss out all the basic in-between steps I'm gonna lose you. And I'd rather lose you now for going too slow than lose you six months down the line because we've done every position you can think of and you're bored with me…'cause by then I'll be all attached."

Faith pressed hard against her, arms squeezing her waist as she kissed the side of Buffy's head. "B, I've wanted you since you were in high school getting all puppy-eyed over that bastard Scott." She kissed the side of her head again and Buffy could feel her smiling. "Gonna be at least a year before I get bored."

Buffy drew back from her shoulder, trying to glare but too amused to pull it off. "Watch it! I'm not all that attached yet."

Again the songs changed, but the tempo didn't. Over Faith's shoulder Buffy could see why. Alex's cousin was tucking into a plate of party food and leaving the same love songs CD to play until he had finished.

Buffy loosened her arms around Faith's neck, wondering whether congratulating Faith on getting through a slow song with minimal complaint was too patronising to be considered funny when tensions were so high.

As she leaned back, Faith leaned forward and kissed her. It was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one considering the way she was feeling. She kissed back, lips curving slightly in pleasure at the softness of Faith's. _God, she loved kissing her!_ As she pulled away to smile properly and suggest they go back to their table, Faith kissed her again, her lips parting slightly as they met Buffy's.

Buffy indulged her for ten seconds before pulling away again, more firmly this time. It wasn't that she couldn't do it all night, but for her it was all about the journey and Faith was obviously on a fast track to something else.

"Was that _too_ brave?" Faith asked, her breathing even heavier than before as she nodded her head sideways in the general direction of the other costumed patrons.

"What?" Buffy looked around, saw a few customers staring at them and realised what was meant. "Oh, no I'm not worried about them."

"Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing…" Buffy started to explain.

"Good." Faith cut her off, already leaning in to kiss her again. As their lips touched this time Buffy leaned back as far as she could until Faith got the message. She looked down and took a deep breath before looking Buffy in the eye again. "What the hell, B?"

"You're a little early."

"What?"

"Unless you're planning on falling asleep right here right now you're too early for your goodnight kiss."

Faith stared at her for a few moments before saying, "Okay, well this can be my dance kiss and I'll have my goodnight kiss later."

Buffy eased herself further away. "This is a control thing again, isn't it?"

"It's just a kiss, Buffy."

"And it's just been two weeks and this is just our first date," Buffy said playfully. "I don't think you've earned kisses before bedtime yet."

"You don't?"

"Nope."

"You don't think this date earns me even one little kiss on the dance floor? Not even after I danced to not one, but two and half of your stupid slow songs with you."

"You just had one little kiss," Buffy pointed out. "In fact you had two and a half."

Faith grinned and ducked her head until she could lose it. "One little kiss with tongues."

"Nope, tongues are for bedtime." Faith didn't bother to hide her grin this time as Buffy blushed at her words. She corrected herself, "French kissing is for bedtimes. Other types of tongue use are for a time somewhere far in the future." Faith's grin fell away. "Not _that_ far in future."

"Okay, so what have I earned? One big kiss, no tongues?" Faith wheedled. "A grope of your shiny blue tits?"

Buffy blushed, hard. "They're kind of cardboardy at the moment; I doubt you'd enjoy it.

"I think you're underestimating just how horny you've made me. They could be made of broken glass right now and I wouldn't turn 'em down."

Buffy gave her a wary look. "Okaaay. How about you get to eat as much party food as you can stomach, finish your giant jug of beer and then walk me home where – if you're lucky – there will be one big kiss with tongues before bedtime."

"And a grope of your sparkly blue tits," Faith said again and Buffy was sure it was just to see how hard she could blush.

"Maybe…" she allowed, leading Faith by the hand towards the table of food. "… but I doubt it."


	11. Act 3:4

Thanks for the reviews.

* * *

Rona had passed a few more doors, always on the same side

Rona had passed a few more doors, always on the same side. She had checked them all, but mostly only by stepping just inside the bookcase or welsh dresser or false pantry wall that was acting as a door to give the room the once over.

Occasionally she heard the tap tap of fast paced foot steps again and would freeze in fright, but as nothing ever attacked her, she always kept walking and searching again. Now and then she thought she heard someone whispering her name, but knew it was just the muted sounds of the party causing her mind to play tricks on her. Still, it freaked her out and she could have done without it.

Her next discovery, only three foot from the tiny slit of a window in the far wall, made her grin despite her fear. Not the steep stone steps leading up one way or the equally narrow, dark continuation of the corridor leading the other, but bright light shining through two small holes in the wall. This place really was old school. They were level with her forehead, but Rona went up on tiptoes to peek out, wondering whose portrait her eyes were impostering.

It was hard to tell what kind of room she was looking into. Someone had found or brought in a boom box and Green Day were competing with the Beethoven playing in the Ballroom, because of that the room was extra crowded with kids oblivious to being spied on from inside the walls. It was a voyeur's paradise, but Rona was more interested in trying to get out. There was no door here, just the peep-holes and it was irritating being able to see people having a good time when she wasn't.

Just as she was about to move on, she spotted something that made her eyes light up. Friends! Or people she knew anyway, she conceded, as she watched Andrew and Craig talking directly across the room.

Her excitement was short-lived as from the darkness behind her came the sound of scurrying footsteps again and they were coming towards her fast. Panic overtaking her; she started to bang on the brick wall with both fists.

"Andrew! Andrew! Craig! Help!" She saw the people closest look around, but there was too much noise for her muffled cries to travel far. "Andrew! Andrew! In the wall!"

Someone heard her. The music was turned off. Protests were shushed. Awash with relief she started banging even hard, hurting her fists as the masonry crumbled slightly under her blows.

"Yes! Andrew! Andrew!" People were looking around again, Andrew and Craig included. "Andrew! I'm in the wall, dumbass! Andrew!"

She pounded the wall with both fists at once so hard the painting she was looking through crashed to the floor. En masse, everyone in the room screamed or yelled and ran for the door, Craig and Andrew included. Within seconds there was no one left to hear her.

"Damn." Rona swore.

The footsteps were still coming towards her, unhurried and inevitable and sounding bigger now they were so close. She swallowed hard. There was only one place left to go. With no time to think beyond that, she ran up the steep steps.

* * *

"Something feels different." Andrew said again. "Don't you think something feels different?"

"I do." Craig pushed another quail's egg into his mouth and licked his fingers. "I also _know_ something is different. On account of there being all that posh food out there and the dead composers' greatest hits being played all over the house and that blinding flash of Magick that nearly rocked the house right off its foundations."

"Shouldn't we do something?"

"Why? As long as we stay where the portable stereo is this version of the party is better than the other one." Craig scooped up two fingers of caviar and stuck it in his mouth, gagging when he discovered he didn't like it.

"But we haven't seen the others for ages!" Andrew continued, getting the impression Craig wasn't taking this seriously at all. "What if the Magick did something to them?"

"Like what? Made them cleaner? I'm pretty sure it was just your standard uncover spell with a party-twist. It just got rid of all the grime, made the place pretty and… provided quality munchies. Whoever did it probably meant to do it before the party started but didn't get around to it."

"I don't know. I think I'd just feel better if I knew where they were. You can't be too careful in a haunted house."

"It's not a haunted house." Craig laughed.

"I'm telling you I saw a face at that window."

On the other side of the room a couple of guys turned to the wall behind them with puzzled expressions. Andrew watched them, but was in too much of a flap to take much notice.

"So there could be a perfectly logical normal reason for that," Craig shrugged. "Just because we know what we know, doesn't mean everything is related to the paranormal. Besides its Halloween and everyone knows spooks and that stay home on Halloween. And if they're at home, they're not gonna be here haunting the place, are…"

The music was abruptly turned off and as everyone looked over to see why, a muffled wailing noise came from the wall.

"What's that?" Andrew's wide eyes were fixed on the wall.

"Not sure," Craig never took his eyes from the wall either.

There was some muffled banging, some more wild wailing. Slowly everyone began to inch away from the wall. Andrew and Craig already had a wall at their back and couldn't go any further.

Now the room was pin dropping silent and the wailing became more distinct.

"There's something trapped in the walls," Andrew breathed.

"Looks like it," Craig swallowed hard.

"Ha!" Andrew turned to him with a triumphant expression. "I told you the place was haunted!"

"_Andrew! Andrew!"_

Andrew went pale and sweaty as the wall started calling his name. The banging started again, almost pounding really, and then on one particularly long wail of his name there was a boom and an elegantly framed oil painting of Chief Pontiac fell and crashed to the floor.

As one, the room of teenagers screamed and yelled and ran for the door. Andrew and Craig were caught in the middle, but once they'd made it to the foyer they stopped to catch their breath.

"Why is a ghost howling my name?" Andrew asked, still shaking.

"I don't know, but I think it was asking you for help. Maybe it knew you were the only who believed it was there. Maybe the uncover spell sort of… uncovered it and now it knows it's a ghost or… something." Craig shrugged. "I don't know anything about ghosts."

Andrew racked his brains for what he knew. Also nothing. The only ghosts he had made the acquaintance of had really been the First. But surely he must know something.

"I think they like to be exorcised. So they can move on to the afterlife, I think, maybe."

Craig nodded, "That's a start. Maybe this ghost wants you to exorcise it then. How do we do that?"

"I have no idea."

They looked at each other for a moment, both waiting for the other to have a brainwave.

"We have to find the others." Andrew said at last.

* * *

Reece heard scampering in front of him as soon as he started walking. His first thought was that this place was full of Piskies too, but then reason told him the scamperer was wearing shoes or boots of some kind and the little purple menaces always seemed to go barefoot. Also whatever was in front of him had sounded bigger than that.

"Hello?"

There was no answer and after a few seconds the footsteps were lost under the muffled sounds of the party.

The first exit sign he found made him laugh. Either this place wasn't as deserted as Dawn had been lead to believe or the kids throwing the party were really conscientious. He found the lever, swung the door open and stepped in holding his lighter above his head.

It was a small room, all wall and no window. Shelves lined the walls cluttered with arcane paraphernalia and in the centre of the stone floor was a large chalk pentagram.

"Shit."

He left the room quickly, pushing the door shut with a slight slam. As far as he knew he had no magical ability, but he didn't need any to know walking into a pentagram was probably a bad idea.

The next door he came upon opened into a dining room and the one after that a cold store room. He checked every door he came to with equal interest. Now and then he heard footsteps again, sometime light and quick, sometime slow and heavy. Each time he stopped and softly called out to Rona, but no one ever answered him.

It was as his lighter finally got too hot to hold and he dropped it with a hiss that he heard the yelling. It sounded like Rona, although he couldn't be sure.

"Rona," he said to find out, groping the stone around his feet for the hot Zippo.

Banging drowned out his call. Scooping up his Zippo with another hiss as the baking metal touched his fingers; he dropped it into his pocket and listened again. He could hear someone running away from him and then the shouting started again. He was sure it was Rona, and the harder he listened the more sure he was that she was shouting for help.

"Rona!" He called one last time and then decided to keep it down in case she was in trouble. In the dark he could mount a surprise attack, but he'd give himself away if he charged in shouting her name.

There was more scurrying ahead of him and ragged panting now too and suddenly the smell of vodka hit him like he had walked into a cloud of it. Up ahead, Rona's shouts for help were getting more and more frantic.

Unable to see anything but the tiny slit of a window directly ahead of him, Reece walked as fast as he dared in the dark.

"Just hang on, Slayer," Reece muttered under his breath. "I'm nearly there."

Suddenly there was an almighty crash which made him jump and drew screams from the other side of the wall and seconds later the sound of someone running away as fast as they could.

Running now, mindless of danger, Reece reached the end and looked around wildly into the darkness of the next corridor and up the stone steps, but there was no sign of Rona; no sign of anything.

* * *

Gently weaving from one side to the other, the mighty Chosen Two finally left the tavern behind them. It was still pretty early, but Boudenver's main street was quiet, as it usually was. The sound of kids running to and from houses in the side alleys reached the Slayers' ears and they giggled at the childish simplicity of it all.

"Want to hit a few houses? Score some candy?" asked Buffy, pulling her shiny red cape around her bare arms against the cold October evening.

Faith looked across at her. "Be easier just to steal it offa one of the kids."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"You mean aside from the whole stealing candy from the little kids part," Faith smirked. "You don't think that's fun?"

"You're warped," Buffy shook her head, hiding her smile.

"And you're just realising this now?"

Faith was taking off her tatty denim jacket, it was already ripped up from two weeks of demon fighting – a testament to her slaying style – and Faith had used her Bowie knife that afternoon to add a few more. The numerous holes meant it didn't offer all that much protection against the chill, but when Faith wrapped it around Buffy's shoulders, the blonde felt warmer from the gesture alone. And at least the dried blood splashes were fake; she hoped.

"Thanks," Buffy smiled.

Faith shrugged.

"Doesn't really go with the rest of my costume though," Buffy pointed out.

"You weren't fooling anyone into thinking you were Wonder Woman anyway, B, so don't sweat it." Faith grinned slyly at her.

"Oh really," Buffy's eyes scanned the street and seeing people around, she pulled Faith into an alley.

Once in the dark, she gripped Faith's hips and easily lifted her into the air until her feet dangled against Buffy's thighs. Faith's jacket slipped from Buffy's shoulders and her shiny red cape billowed in the fresh breeze.

"Still think I couldn't be Wonder Woman?"

Faith hung there from her hands quite happily. "Well you do look good in the outfit," she admitted with a little leer.

Buffy imagined the view from Faith's perspective. "You're looking down my boob-enhancing, spangly red and gold, stiff-as-a-board Wonder-bodice, aren't you?" she asked, with a resigned sigh.

"Uh huh," Faith nodded, "and from up here I can tell you that you don't need any enhancing; your tits are a wonder all on their own."

Buffy dropped Faith so that she landed lightly on her feet, and probably went as red as her bright, shiny cape. Despite her embarrassment at the attention, she was so glad she'd gone with this instead of the cheaper choice of re-making the Little Red Riding Hood costume.

Buffy stooped to pick up Faith's jacket from the ground, realising too late she was giving Faith another eyeful. "At least I made the effort."

They left the alley and walked on again.

"I made a lot more of an effort than you did," Faith countered as she looked down at her own attire. "All you did was go to a store and pick out the sluttiest costume you could find!"

"I did not!" Buffy pushed Faith hard on the shoulder and the other Slayer stumbled tipsily into someone's front door. Rebounding back, she rubbed her left shoulder where it had struck the green wood and stared doubtfully at Buffy. "It wasn't _the_ sluttiest." Buffy insisted.

The green door opened and both Slayers stepped back in surprise.

"Hello girls, how can I help you this evening?" The house-owner, or door-owner at least, was old, wrinkled and with red-hair that was definitely not natural. Her wide, dentured smile faltered a little when she realised she had been disturbed by adults not children, but she made up for it by smiling even wider. Buffy hoped she wasn't about to get hit by a pair of false teeth popping out because she knew she would scream.

"Uh…" Faith began but then didn't seem to know what to follow up with afterwards, she made a 'what now' gesture at Buffy.

"Trick or treat," Buffy finished for her brightly.

"Yeah," agreed Faith with a tiny shrug.

The old lady grinned some more. "Well okay, let me see what I can find." She disappeared from the door for half a second, when she reappeared she was carrying a big bowl. "Here's a caramel apple for you, Wonder Woman."

Buffy accepted her apple on a stick from her, smiling brightly. "Thank you."

"And here's one for you, uh…" She took a good look at Faith's costume as she held the apple just out of Faith's reach, her smile wavered again. "Uh?"

Faith looked down at herself and then met the woman's eyes in disbelief. "I'm a zombie! Look," she tilted her head up to show the woman the line of eye-liner butterfly stitches across her neck.

"Of course you are." As the woman addressed the indignant Slayer as if she was nine years old, Buffy bit into her sticky apple to cover her imminent giggles. "I can see that now. Very realistic claw marks – what got you?" the lady played along.

Faith looked down at the slashed material of her tank top. "Werewolf," she answered truthfully.

The old lady beamed at her, obviously appreciating Faith's little attempts at authenticity.

Faith rolled her eyes. "Can I have my apple now?"

"Of course, dear." The lady handed it over and Faith snatched it away, walking off down the road leaving Buffy to say thank you again.

When Buffy caught up to her, Faith had already finished her apple, was chewing on the last mouthful and regarding the stick it had been stuck on. She made a staking motion with it. "Nah, too flimsy."

The stick was thrown over someone's garden hedge and Faith licked her fingers clean.

"Did you even taste it?" Buffy asked, biting another chunk out of hers.

Faith ignored that. "No one appreciates the work I put into this," she gestured to herself. "It took me ages to get the stitches just right when I couldn't see what I was doing. I had to keep stopping to check they were level."

"It's not that it doesn't look real," Buffy promised her. "When I first opened the front door I thought you'd been in a traffic accident."

They were almost out of town now, just a few more houses and then the road would be bordered on both sides by fields. Buffy stopped under the last street light.

"It's just that when normal people go on a date they dress up not down." With the hand not holding her apple-stick she fingered the tears in Faith's tank top, touching her fingers to the smooth skin of her tummy beneath. "At least on first dates anyway."

"We're not normal people, B." Faith smiled. "If we were, Halloween probably wouldn't have been the first night we had the chance to go out on a date."

"Does this mean I have to wait a year for a second date?" Buffy asked, leaning back against the light pole as she grinned at Faith.

"No it just means we have to make Kennedy and the others work harder." Faith was inexorably drawn to lean closer to her. "Why, are you going to say yes to another date?"

Buffy looked into her eyes, her lips pursing repeatedly as she tried to stop herself from smiling. "Haven't decided yet." She finally replied impishly, slipping away just as Faith's lips were about to land on her own.

Faith sighed impatiently, resting her forehead against the wooden post for a beat before turning and following Buffy up the road into the darkness.

Buffy waited for her to catch up and, after only a seconds hesitation reached out and took Faith's warm hand, earning her a brief smile.

Hand in hand they walked along the middle of the asphalt. If a car came along they would both hear it and see it in plenty of time to get to the dirt edge of the road. The only light out here was the moon high in the sky above them, bathing the fields in silver frosting and making the woods up ahead look even more forbidding than they normally would at this time of night.

Lucky for them that it was the one night of the year when the things that went bump stayed out of the night. It was at least a thirty minute walk back to the camp, all of it along roads as dark, if not darker, as the one they were currently following, but cabs out here in the boondocks were non-existent unless you wanted to pay the fare to have it come all the way from Cleveland first.

The two of them being Slayers obviously meant they could more than take care of themselves if they had to, but this was supposed to be a date and for once Buffy really didn't want to interrupt it for impromptu slaying. There were enough things that could go wrong without adding 'having to work late' to them.

So far though nothing had gone wrong, not really anyway, nothing that would put Buffy off a second date, but that didn't mean it was a good idea to let Faith know that too soon.

"Aren't you cold?" Buffy broke the easy silence between them, realising she still had Faith's jacket around her shoulders and Faith was only wearing her tiny torn up tank top.

Out here in the open, walking uphill, it was quite a bit colder than it had been in town.

"A little," Faith admitted, shrugging a little to show it was no big deal.

"You should put your coat back on," Buffy started to take it off her shoulders. "I have my cape."

"No, don't." Faith released her hand long enough to keep the torn denim jacket on Buffy's shoulders. "I'm fine, really."

Buffy smiled, Faith's hands were still on her shoulders. "Okay, if you're sure."

"I'm sure."

"You know, Faith, there's not much point in getting top marks for effort if you freeze to death before the end of the date. A girl doesn't like that kind of thing." Buffy smirked, nudging her hip against Faith's as she took her hand again.

"Actually I think most girls would love the idea of their date freezing their ass off so they could be warm," Faith argued with a smirk of her own. "But I'm really not that cold, B, so don't worry about me being too frozen to appreciate the end of our date, alright?" She swung their clasped hands between them a little.

Buffy wondered just what Faith had in mind for the end of their date.

She may have agreed to let the other woman organise everything, after all it was Faith that was supposed to be making things up to her and Buffy was prepared to give her free reign to do that – because she _wanted_ Faith to make things up to her. However that didn't mean that one night in Barnies, no matter how much fun it ultimately had been, earned Faith more than the kiss already promised.

"Are you gonna finish that?"

Faith suddenly speaking after minutes of silence startled Buffy enough that she nearly dropped the apple in question. The road was entering the woods now, trees crowding the fences on either side of the asphalt strip, making the night so dark that it was all but impossible to see one foot in front of the other. She took another bite from the candy covered fruit before offering it to Faith.

As Faith reached up her free hand to accept it, Buffy pulled it away a little.

"Why won't anyone just hand over the damn apples tonight?" Faith chuckled.

"I'm offering you a bite, not the whole thing." Buffy explained, bringing the treat closer to Faith again. The stick was clearly visible, but the apple was a lot darker in colour and couldn't be seen very well.

Faith frowned at it, and then turned the expression on Buffy, who grinned encouragingly and moved it even closer to Faith's mouth. Faith shook her head cynically, but moved in to take a bite at the half an apple left on the stick.

Buffy, unable to help herself, slowly edged the treat out of reach, moving it slowly enough that Faith just kept leaning in, not realising the goal post was moving.

Of course she realised once her neck was stretched uncomfortably out in front of her and she still couldn't reach the apple.

"B!" Faith snapped, amid Buffy's sudden bout of giggles.

Buffy felt Faith's fingers close over her hand as she tried to pull the apple up to her mouth to take a bite. Knowing Faith would take the whole thing clean off the stick to pay her back, Buffy lowered her mouth to sink her own teeth into it and snatch it up first. Faith's forehead softly bumped against hers as she claimed a chunk of the sticky fruit and Buffy's giggles were exacerbated as she imagined the apple as a piece of spaghetti held between the two of them. Trying to focus on Faith made her go cross-eyed, the other woman's face was so close, just the other side of the apple in fact. Faith shook her head playfully, like a puppy inviting a tug-of-war game and Buffy nearly lost her tooth-grip on _her_ treat.

She tried to say, "It's mine," but it came out an unintelligible mumble.

Faith held her eyes for another few seconds before biting though the apple with a loud crunch. The quarter left on the stick started to fall away from the wood as Buffy opened her mouth to repeat herself. Faith caught it as it fell between them.

"I said that was mine!" Buffy repeated clearly now her mouth was empty.

"I saved you some." Faith held up the chunk she'd caught and offered it to her.

Buffy glared at her indignantly before leaning down and snatching the offered piece with her lips, she crunched it up and swallowed it down quickly. "You owe me half a candy apple."

"Yeah, yeah." Faith reached for her hand again but Buffy backed away.

"No, your fingers are all sticky!"

Even in the darkness of the woods, Buffy could see the dark shapes of eyebrows wiggling against the pale skin of Faith's face. She slapped Faith's arm lightly and started walking up the hill again. Faith walked beside her, noisily sucking her fingers clean and trying to catch Buffy's eye as she did it.

Buffy kept her eyes straight ahead.

When Faith seemed happy that her hand was no longer tacky, she held it out again.

"No, now they have your spit all over them."

"What's wrong with my spit?" asked Faith.

"Nothing." But she still didn't make it easy for Faith to hold her hand again, pulling it away at the last second every time Faith tried.

"If you have a problem with my spit, it's not just gonna affect the girly hand-holding stuff, ya know?" Faith got a hold of two of her fingers but Buffy wriggled them free.

"I don't have a problem with it."

Their hands wrestled with each other. "In fact my spit is gonna play a pretty big part in this relationship so if you…"

"Faith," Buffy cut her off, chuckling, "The only problem I have with your spit is that you keep talking about your spit – which isn't as seductive as you might think it is."

"Prove it," Faith succeeded in pinning Buffy's hand in her own and held on tight.

"What?" laughed Buffy, allowing her hand to be held now without a fight.

"Prove you don't have a problem with it," Faith insisted as she swerved around to stand in front of Buffy, stopping her from walking.

"I proved that months ago." Buffy tried to walk around her. "And earlier."

Faith side-stepped to stay in front of her. "I just want to make sure you haven't developed an allergy or something."

"First spit and now allergies, are you trying to turn me off?"

"I think you're trying to turn yourself off," Faith told her in a conspiratorial whisper, leaning as close as she had been when they were fighting over the apple. "And I get why now, but you don't have to."

Buffy leaned away, smirking. "Oh yeah, I've had to make a conscious effort all night not to ravish you, Faith. I don't know how I stopped myself."

"A whole lot of self-control and plenty of fear." Faith answered her seriously. She glanced quickly down at herself. "And my choice of costumes probably helped; no need to thank me."

Buffy smirk was losing its strength and when slightly damp fingertips touched her cheek, she moved her head to the side. Faith's fingers stayed with her though, lightly resting on her suddenly burning skin. Buffy swallowed.

"You on the other hand," Faith continued softly as she let her thumb trace over the curve of Buffy's cheek. "Are indulging one of my favourite fantasies and looking wicked hot while you're at it and I'm being as good as gold over here."

"If you're trying to say I want you more than you want me…" Buffy began quietly.

"You know that's not it, Buffy. Jeez did you forget our conversation earlier already." Faith took a second just to look into Buffy's eyes. "I'm saying you can relax a little. I know I screwed up, big-time, and I probably will again, but I won't make _that_ screw-up again. I'm in it for the long-haul too, babe, I promise; and… kissing or fucking, that's up to you, but doing neither is just driving us both crazy. That's all I'm saying."

Faith stepped away, giving Buffy back her personal space and instantly it was too much space. Their hands remained clasped as they started walking again, and now their shoulders were lightly touching as well.

Buffy realised she still hadn't said anything and cleared her throat while she tried to think of a suitable response to Faith's honest disclosure, finally settling on, "So did you fantasize about _me_ being Wonder Woman or just about Wonder Woman herself?"

* * *

Owen stood behind the banquet table resisting the urge to slap the children's hands away from the food. He sighed to himself as it disappeared all too quickly. There went his leftovers for the next week. He didn't really begrudge them, he always purchased far too much anyway and at least it was being enjoyed. He _did _wonder if he could get Victor and his friend to help him carry the stag back through to the kitchen, the children seemed to be a little scared of it anyway and if he froze portions it would feed him for a month.

In a way, although he was still disappointed that his small gathering that he looked forward to so much was ruined, and still angry that someone had played this trick on him, it was very nice to see the ballroom filled with people for the first time in over a century. He was even tempted to change the music to something a little more contemporary, because no one was dancing and that was a shame.

Ptah and Zeke wandered over to him, they were both obviously nervous in the crowd and had been staying close together since leaving the library.

"Iggy's in the study playing poker," Ptah informed him with resigned amusement in a voice muffled by his bandages.

"Is he winning?" Owen asked with a small smile.

"Only a little more than he's losing," said Zeke. "Not enough to get beaten up yet anyway."

"Well, that's a mercy at least."

"Yes the last thing we need is a repeat of the Vegas trip in '27." Ptah said as he piled a paper plate high with lettuce, tomato and cucumber.

"Speaking of that trip," Owen said wryly catching the eyes of his friends. "Has anyone seen Vlad since we left the library?"

Ptah paused with a lettuce leaf dangling out of his mouth and Zeke looked around the ballroom uneasily.

Ptah chewed up his leaf. "You told us all to go out different doors and the glow bugs didn't give off a lot of light."

"I think he was behind me walking through the passage," Zeke offered. "But then we came out behind the stage and Vlad kept going."

"He wouldn't, would he?" Ptah asked.

Owen simply shook his head, not knowing the answer. While he liked to think the best of all his friends, it couldn't be forgotten that his friends were all, in one way or another, devilish fiends. It wasn't their fault they were who they were and it wasn't his fault he had formed such close ties with them all. It didn't matter how large your social circle was in youth, the longer you lived the smaller it became, it was inevitable.

Most of the gang had grown accepting of humans over the years. The threat they posed was too great and superstition wasn't what it used to be. Vlad, however, feared no one and something of his status was not going to be weaned onto cow blood no matter how many mobs he faced.

"I'm sure he's behaving himself," Owen said, trying to reassure himself.

"I ain't seen Paddy for a while either," Zeke mentioned as he pulled a leg from the stag as if it was a chicken.

"Well you wouldn't, would you?" Ptah chuckled. "He wouldn't be seen in a crowd of four of these great oafs."

"Paddy will be in a quiet corner with a bottle of alcohol by now." Owen smiled, not worried.

"Yes, give him an hour or two and he'll be trying to sell these youths the deeds to his rainbow." Ptah said laughing, and Zeke and Owen joined in.

* * *

Rona had run up the steep steps – there had only been ten of them – and dashed along the passage way at the top, ultra aware of the footsteps following her all the way.

She slapped the walls at handle level as she passed, hoping like hell she'd find a doorway quick so she could hide until whoever was following her had passed by again.

She kept thinking she heard her name being called, but it was far away and distorted so she could have been imagining it.

There was another small slit of a window here, and the passage divided, but she didn't realise. Carrying straight on past the grey light coming in, her legs went out from under her as she hit steps she couldn't see. Falling down them, she tried to keep her mouth shut, but couldn't stop a few pained grunts escaping.

She was winded by the surprise of it, but thankfully hadn't picked up more than a few bruises as far as she could tell. Still trying not to make any noise she untwisted from the heap she had fallen in and started to stand back up facing the steps.

Her heart stopped when she saw the silhouette there, standing right at the top. She started to back away, hoping it hadn't seen her yet, but when moonlight glinted off of the raised for stabbing, foot long carving knife, she screamed…

_Tbc..._


	12. Act 3:5

Firstly, thanks for the reviews for the last chapter - they always make my day. Secondly, I'll be honest here, I've done some homework, but I'm still playing it kinda fast and loose with some of the more technical details on Mummies, techincal magic, horror movies and, well, Star Wars - I guess you could say this is my disclaimer for the use of heavy creative license, I hope it doesn't detract from your enjoyment g. (And if anything is glaringly stupid and wrong, please feel free to point it out to me :)

* * *

"Did you hear that?" Zeke cocked his head to one side.

Owen looked around. He couldn't hear anything except _**Hard Day's Night**_ and many half-drunk school children singing along. After talking to Zeke and Ptah he had changed the music and now The Beatles were playing out of the speakers. Everyone seemed to prefer it.

"No," Ptah said after listening for a moment.

"Thought I heard a scream." Zeke shrugged, his tongue hanging out as he grinned. "Probably just wishful thinking."

"Tonight should be all about screaming." A beautiful blonde girl said as she overheard. She was standing next to him, putting food on a paper plate. "For a Halloween party in a haunted house, it's not exactly scary is it? Someone's even taken all the fake cobwebs down."

She looked up frowning. "Someone's even taken all the real cobwebs down." Shrugging, she grinned at him.

He panted harder and then had to swallow to avoid drooling. "I'm Zeke." He held his paw out to shake.

"Fen," she introduced herself. After shaking his paw she looked down at it, noticing the hair and the long black claws.

He pulled it away self-consciously.

She smiled at him again. "So are you from Bou Academy? Gotta say I'm surprised you pulled this party off. What with you all being posh geeks, no offence, but you guys did well."

"Uh, thanks."

"And, dude, your costume is awesome," she continued. "I know everyone is giving you guys a hard time for dressing up, but, man, at least you went all out, you know? So did you hire it? It looks so real."

"Yeah," Zeke replied, noncommittally. Chatting up humans was hard enough without having to pretend he was in costume.

Then she did the worst thing possible.

"It feels real too." She ruffled the hair on his head, which actually felt really nice, and then ran her palm around to his cheek. "Did you glue a real dog skin on?" she chuckled.

"Don't…" he warned, but it was too late.

As she pulled his whiskers playfully, pain flared in his cheek and he instinctively twisted his head and snapped.

Fen pulled her hand back fast, staring at him in shock. "What the hell, dude?"

"I'm sorry," Zeke said quickly, but in his agitated state it came out as a growl.

Fen stepped back, her eyes going wide. "You're real?"

"This dork bothering you?"

Zeke's eyes snapped from Fen's shocked face to the athletic-looking boy that thought he was coming to her rescue.

"No." Again it came out as a growl. The wannabe Alpha-male waves coming off of this kid was making his lip curl and he took a step back.

"Get out of character and answer me. I said, are you bothering her, dickhead!"

"Charlie, don't!" Fen sounded scared.

Charlie didn't listen to her and pushed Zeke's chest. Zeke looked down, smelling the hormone-y oils left on his shirt by the action. When he looked back up, he was snarling.

"Oh you wanna start something, geek?" Charlie taunted him.

Zeke did, and so he started it…

* * *

The yowling, growling and howling was intense. Too much so for any sane human to endure up close. Clothes and flesh were ripped apart with superhuman strength and the blood flew in big, gushing spurts that nearly blinded all vision. The screams of the humans were passionate and painful to hear and only grew louder as it went on.

"Why are we watching this again?" Willow asked from behind her cushion.

"Because its fright night." Xander wasn't hiding behind a cushion, but every time he started to raise his beer bottle to his lips, he pulled it away in a flinch at what was happening on screen.

"Don't we get enough of this, oh I don't know, _every night_?" Willow squeaked, peeking out and then hiding again immediately.

"Yeah, but neither of us have been much with the patrolling recently. I thought this might keep us in the game." A leg was ripped off and thrown across the screen. "Okay, too gamey!"

Xander pressed the mute button and the TV went blissfully silent.

Willow lowered her cushion and let out a noisy breath.

They shared an embarrassed smile at being so freaked by the film.

"If Buffy was here to see us now," Willow grinned.

"She'd be just as freaked as we are," Xander quipped.

They both watched the on-screen action again. Xander didn't put the sound back on, but that didn't stop it from being terrifying. They sat in silence, still cringing at the muted anguished screams of the villagers and recoiling from the bloodcurdling violence. When there was a loud knock at the front door

Willow squealed and pulled the cushion to her face again and Xander spilled cold beer all over his thigh.

"Who is it?" Willow's voice came muffled from behind the peach coloured cushion.

"Strangely enough, I can't tell from here." Xander wiped at his bare leg.

"Well, find out, but don't open the door!"

Xander rolled his eye. "It's probably just trick or treaters."

"All the way out here?"

Xander shrugged, squatting down to retrieve a big meat hook from beneath the couch.

"Is that a weapon?"

"No, it's my costume." Xander picked the bowl of candy off of the coffee table. It was only half full now. "I'm the naked pirate."

"Oh. That's different." Willow watched him go to the door over the top of her cushion.

Xander pulled open the front door, holding the hook above his head. "Ahoy, me matey, and who do you be?"

The person on the threshold blinked once at the hook and then again at Xander's boxers.

"Naked pirate. I get it."

"Oz!" Xander greeted him cheerfully and stepped aside to let him enter. "To what do we owe this late night pleasure?"

"Well, I'm all out of candy and I figured Giles would have some." Oz took the bowl as he came into the house. "Not too late for a drop by, is it?"

"No, come on in. Take off your clothes. Pull up some of the couch. Join in the scariest movie you have ever seen in your life."

Oz raised an eyebrow at him.

"Underwear is mandatory." Xander explained.

"Well I am wearing underwear."

"Oz, hey!" Willow greeted as he came into the living room. "What are you doing here?"

"Ralf had a date with a skunk while we were out this afternoon."

"Oh, poor Ralf." Willow looked concerned.

"Oh, don't worry, he's fine. I just needed to seek out some better smelling company for a while." Oz looked around the living room, noting that no one else was around, and then his gaze settled on Willow's semi-nakedness. "If you don't mind, that is?"

"Of course we don't." Willow dropped her cushion and got up from the couch. "I'll get you a beer. Do you wanna a beer?"

"A beer would be nice." Oz watched her walk to the kitchen.

"Get me one too!"

"Am I interrupting something?"

"What, me and Willow?" Xander laughed. "Just because two friends have an underwear party… By the way, I wasn't kidding."

"About what?"

"Underwear party!" Xander said exasperatedly. "Why does no one get the oh-so-simple concept?"

"Because it's odd."

"You're a guy! You know about watching TV in your boxers."

"When I'm alone."

"This was supposed to be my night alone," Xander explained. "And do you know how often that happens around here? This is the first night since we moved in I've had the big television more or less to myself. It was my night, you know?"

Oz nodded whether he did or not.

"And then Willow came down, but she understands, she's a good friend. So she got in her underwear-like jammies. Now you're here, which is great, don't get me wrong, always happy to hang with the Oz, but if you stay fully dressed, I'm just an idiot in my underwear… on my night! You get me?"

"I do, but… won't Willow mind."

"Nah, she's seen you in your boxers before. She's seen you naked before…" Oz raised his eyebrow again. "One can only assume," Xander added, grinning.

Oz still looked dubious so Xander sat himself down in the middle of the couch. "There ya go, one on one side of me and one on the other. You won't even be able to see each other."

"Okay," Oz shrugged and pulled his sweater over his head. He was bare-chested beneath.

"Already feels better, right?" Xander encouraged him and then had a thought. "Actually, before you go any further, could you run upstairs and see if there's any pizza left."

Oz just stared at him.

"One of the new slayers, Vi, used our underywearness against us earlier and took two large pizzas upstairs. She's in my room watching TV. Whatever you can claim back, half is yours." He promised.

"Okay, that sounds fair," Oz went up the front stairs.

Willow came back through from the kitchen carrying three bottles of beer in one hand and a plate of beef jerky and cheese wedges in the other.

"Did Oz go?" she sounded upset. "I got his favourite snacks."

"Nope," Xander said delightedly. "He's gone on a salvage mission."

"Huh?"

"I sent him to grab whatever pizza Vi hasn't managed to scarf yet."

"Oh, good idea." Willow, giggling, set the plate and bottles on the coffee table before plonking down next to Xander again.

Oz came back down the stairs carrying one large pizza box. "Well, she didn't give them up without a fight, but I managed to snatch the six slices that were left. So I get three of them?"

Willow stared at Xander, her mouth quirked in disapproval.

"I kinda promised." Xander admitted sheepishly.

Willow looked at Oz to argue that she had never agreed to that, but he was taking his pants off. Her eyes went wide and she averted them quickly, keeping her mouth firmly shut to quash the smile she could feel coming.

Down to his boxers, Oz dropped into the space on the other side of Xander, not seeming to notice Willow's reaction.

"So what are we watching?" he asked as he ripped a slice of pizza off and settled back.

"This." Xander un-muted the television and immediately the screams came back.

Xander and Willow both flinched back as the onscreen werewolf accidentally ripped apart a human male as she tried to mate with him.

"Okay, see, now that would never happen," Oz said casually, pointing his slice at the screen.

Xander and Willow shared another embarrassed look, still wincing from the screams.

* * *

Fen screamed when the shirt ripped clean off of Charlie as the boy turned to run; trying to get away from being boxed around the ears with the pads of Zeke's large paws. She was too traumatized to realise that even though the attack looked ferocious no blood had actually been drawn… yet.

Enjoying himself far too much, Zeke let Charlie take a few steps away before he dropped to all fours, opened his grinning jaws wide, pounced and clamped down hard on his ass. Now Charlie was screaming too. Zeke started to playfully shake him from side to side.

"No, Zeke, no," Owen called out when he realised what was happening. "Oh, this will never do. Ptah, make him stop, please."

"The boy started it. And besides, Zeke is doing no more than teaching him some manners."

"Fow a liffle resvect fuh uffer bengs feevings!" Zeke said with his mouthful of ass.

"He's just advising the youth to show considerations for the feelings of others," Ptah translated.

"S…s…sorry," Charlie could barely keep his feet under him as he was jarred from side to side.

"Hello Mr Les-Sages. What are you doing here?" Distracted, Owen turned around to see the Woodman's youngest son staring at him in mild terror. "You're not going to tell on us are you? Only… only my mom knows I'm here, she said it was, like, okay, so even if you tell her…"

"I'm not going to tell on you, Bradley." Owen promised, turning back to the spectacle of Zeke and Charlie. If he did he would have to explain what he was doing here to catch them all.

"Thank you, sir." Bradley stayed beside him. "Uh, is that your dog?"

Owen grabbed the boy by the shoulder, his grip tight and his voice serious, "Whatever you do, don't call him a dog to his face."

"Why not?"

"Hey mutt, get offa him." Aaron Pritchard, having heard his friends' screams had dashed over to see what the hell was going on. He hadn't expected this. "Hey," he yelled again, aiming a kick at Zeke that missed by a mile. "You hear me dog?"

"You are about to find out," Owen said to Bradley, wincing from what he knew was to come.

Fen screamed again as Zeke turned from Charlie in a flash and suddenly had the front of Aaron's pants in his strong jaws.

"What hid you hall me, 'itch?"

Aaron didn't answer, he didn't scream, he didn't even dare move. He stood on tiptoes with his arms out to the sides for balance and breathed funny. Zeke growled around his manhood and gave a minute shake of his head. Aaron's eyes rolled back in his head.

"No!"

Seeing Charlie about to grab hold of Zeke's wagging tail to pull him off, Ptah leapt forward. Any provocation now and Zeke would bite down. He landed on the youth and they both fell to the ground. Not realising the Mummy had probably just saved his and his buddy's life – certainly his buddy's genitalia – Charlie started laying punches on Ptah's bandaged face.

"Fight. Fight. Fight." The chant was started up by those closest to the action, but it didn't take long to spread throughout the ballroom.

Victor looked up as he heard the commotion. He couldn't see what was happening, but a crowd had formed, and he instantly looked around for his friend in concern. Seeing him safe and unmolested where he had left him, Victor sighed with relief and went back to studying the contraption on the stage.

"So it was with this machinery that you were able to lift the cloak placed on this house?" he asked, twirling a few dials experimentally and looking at the digital displays with healthy sceptical ludditism and also a hint of envy.

"Yes sir, please don't touch that, sir."

When the short and stocky boy from Boudenver Academy tried to politely nudge him away from the highly expensive equipment, Victor gave him a sharp clip around the ear to get him away.

"Ow, hey!" The boy shot backwards to stand with his fellow prestigious men. "You can't hit me."

"Oh stop your whining, child. I barely touched you. Now tell me, if I attached electrodes into the bass ports here," he pointed to them. "Reconfigured the density of the energy flow and set the dial at, say, twenty-five, twenty six, do you think it would change a person's size, make them shorter?"

"In theory, I guess," said tall and lanky number one.

"Great, let us try it then." Victor took what looked like very long, thin jump-leads from his pocket before taking off his jacket and handing it to one of the boys.

The Boudenver students shrugged and smiled at each other, not as irritable now that actual experimentation was on the table.

Victor rolled up his sleeves, also smiling, which wasn't something that happened often when he was outside of his lab.

"Probably best to do a trial run first." He fit one end of the jump-leads into the bass ports and, looking around brightly, held the other end up. "Who would like to volunteer?"

The boys all tried to back away with strained, nervous smiles. Victor followed them, his smile getting bigger and more maniacal with every step.

Igor folded his winnings, pushed them into one of the pockets on the side of his scrubs and reached for his new lady-friend's hand. She'd been his lucky charm while playing cards and now he was going to see if she could sing too.

"What's going on?" she wondered as they entered the ballroom and saw the hubbub.

Catching glimpses through the crowd, he hurriedly tugged her onwards, not wanting her running and screaming before they'd gotten to spend more time together.

"Probably jutht a Halloween thkit. We'll be able to thee better from the thtage."

Completely ignoring whatever the hell Victor was doing, he gestured for his lady to take a seat at the grand piano and then slipped in next to her.

"Uh, can you play with your… uh, disability?" she asked timidly.

"You mean thith one?" Iggy held up his hands to show off his extra digits. For a split second he shot a dark look Victor's way, but then gave the girl a big, bright smile. "Oh, hell yeth."

Cracking all thirteen knuckles first, he brought his hands skilfully down onto the keys and began to play a fast, plinky-plink tune reminiscent of saloon brawls and damsels tied to train tracks.

The music floated across the ballroom.

"Now what the heck are they playing?" Craig asked as they came running into the big room.

"I don't think it's them," Andrew panted. "It's probably the ghost. He wants us, me, to do something."

"Like what? Do you see anyone?"

Andrew could see lots of people, but none were his friends. "I don't know what it is yet. We have to figure that out."

"Someone's having a scrap," Craig noticed the throng of kids was more concentrated in one area. He grabbed Andrew's upper arm. "Bet its Kennedy, come on. So what does the music have to do with us figuring out what he wants?"

"Well, it's like movie music, it has moods." Andrew nodded earnestly when Craig looked back at him dubiously. "Like in the Return of the Jedi when Luke does that thing and the ship is under attack and the music gets faster, and you know they're getting close."

"So you think the faster the music is going, the closer we are to the danger, or figuring out what the ghost wants, or probably both?"

They were pushing through the outskirts of the throng now, a few people pushed back, but they took no notice as they tried to get a front row seat.

"Yes."

"Only, mate, I can't help noticing the music is getting faster..."

"…And faster!" Andrew agreed, nervously looking over his shoulder.

"Which, if your theory is right, can only mean one thing…" Craig said as he broke through the final line of spectators and saw what was creating the fuss. "…MONSTERS!"

The kids had been in a state of disbelieving shock. Their brains unable to fully comprehend what they were seeing, they had rationalised it in a way that allowed them to think this was all part of the spooky entertainment.

As Craig instinctively shouted the truth at the top of his lungs and Zeke's head twisted around revealing snarling lips and dripping fangs, leaving Aaron free to topple to the green tiled floor in a dead faint, the spell broke around them, and now everyone was screaming.

"No, no, no!" Owen yelled, flapping his arms around as if that would calm everyone down.

"Fen!" Spotting Dawn's blonde friend, Andrew darted forward and grabbed her, pulling her to the side out of the way of the suddenly stampeding teenagers.

Craig seemed oblivious to the eruption of chaos he had caused, dazed into immobility by a mixture of fear and fascination.

Suddenly there was a ripping sound, barely heard over the screaming and Zeke's growling as he chased after anything that moved, and Ptah landed one last sloppy punch at Charlie's face to make him let go and then scrambled up and away.

"What did you do?" he squealed, turning this way and that in a panic. "What did you do? I'll give you a thousand lashes of the stick, I'll cut off your nose, I'll have you embalmed while you still breathe…"

The threats went on as Charlie, his nose bloody and his lips swollen, lay on the floor next to a still motionless Aaron and tried to stifle his sobs. Craig's lips twitched in a smile, which disappeared immediately when the bandaged head turned his way.

"What…?" Ptah gave a battle cry and came straight for him. "…the heck?"

Spinning around, Craig ran for his life. Ptah ran after him, arms outstretched, desperate to get away from the hostile youths.

"Craig!" Andrew yelled, but his boyfriend was too freaked to hear anything but the rush of blood in his ears. "Are you okay?" he asked Fen.

She shook her head. "What the hell was that?"

"A Halloween prank?" Andrew offered, shrugging like he didn't know the truth.

Fen gave him a withering look – which dutifully withered his expression of cluelessness –and hurried over to tend to Charlie and to check on Aaron, to make sure he was just in a faint and hadn't actually died from shock.

"It's… I can't tell you." Andrew started backing away, now he really had to find one of the others.

"There's… _monsters_," Fen said the word like it was hard to spit out. "running around the house; I think you could at least give me a clue."

"There's this ghost and the monsters are all signs, so if the music gets faster again I suggest you get under the table." He said quickly.

"Okay, thanks," Fen nodded, but then… "Wait, what?" She looked up, but Andrew had gone.

Craig ran across the ballroom and out into the foyer. He wanted to scream, and it wasn't any desire to be macho that stopped him, he just didn't want to waste breath that would be better conserved for running.

Other people ran with them, but most peeled away to find hiding places, Craig stayed single-minded, one thought: Run like hell. He didn't even hear Kennedy and Dawn calling to him, asking what was wrong, as he shot through the foyer at a breakneck speed, jumped down the front steps and kept running into the night.

Ptah, only a stride or two behind all the way, suddenly tripped over his own flapping bandages and dived unintentionally to the shiny floor.

"What is that?" Kennedy forgot they were searching for Rona – she wasn't entirely sobered up yet – and walked closer to prod the tattered being with her toe.

"Did someone actually come in costume?" Dawn gave a little laugh as she walked to the very back of the entrance hall, the only place they hadn't looked yet. "Are you helping me or not?"

"Ow, ow, what did he do to me," The shrouded figure muttered to itself. "I'm blind. They've made me blind!"

Kennedy squatted down with drunken inquisitiveness and pushed the bandages covering the kid's eyes up to his forehead. Okay, the dry, shrivelled, slightly yellowed face revealed definitely belonged to no kid, she fell back on her ass.

"Thank you, thank you!" The thing got to his knees in front of her and the bandages fell forward once more. "Ah, I am blind. I am blind again! What is this curse?"

Kennedy jumped to her feet and obliged him by pulling his bandages away from his eyes again. This time she kept hold of them though, and used them to twist his head to one side.

"Okay, let's start with: What are you? And then we'll move onto: What are you doing running around this house?"

"I was invited, which is more than you can say."

Dawn looked back irritably over her shoulder to see Kennedy still messing about with the boy in the mummy costume. There was only one door back here, in shadows because the staircase arced above it; she sighed unhappily when she realised she was going to have to check this room alone.

She was just inching the door open…

"Dawn?"

Jumping slightly at the unexpected sound of her name, she slammed the door shut again, turning to lean on it indifferently. Then, when she saw who it was, she tensed even more. "Sethos."

"I didn't know you were here," the Egyptian boy said softly.

"Well, I am," Dawn brightly stated the obvious.

"I was just about to leave, but…"

"Okay, well, don't let me keep you." She gave him a big, fake smile.

Her rudeness worked and he lost the soft tone as he said, "Right." And walked off.

Dawn's smile slowly dropped away and she sighed again as she watched him walk across the foyer. Every time he was nice to her, she was a bitch to him. It wasn't deliberate, he just kept catching her at times when his niceness was inconvenient, like when she was on a first date with the hottest guy in the world, or, like now, when she was snooping into dark corners for her missing friend.

Shaking her head, she turned back to the closed door and tried to get up the nerve to open it for a second time. She totally missed Sethos dropping reverently to his knees as he passed Kennedy and bandage-boy.

"Sire!" Sethos breathed, overcome with sudden emotion. "Lord of the Sun and the Sand." He bowed his head low to the ground, and kept it there. "Why do you appear to me? Can I be of service to you?"

"Actually, yes." Ptah winced at the tight hold on his bandages.

"What can I do for you, my Lord?" Sethos asked, wondering when he had fallen asleep. Dreams were the usual conduit for these kinds of visitations.

Ptah rolled his eyes and pointed at Kennedy over his shoulder.

"Oh, of course." He bobbed up and down a few times, not really sure if he was supposed to stop bowing or not, but he decided to take a chance. "Let go of him, please."

"No," said Kennedy and her other arm snaked out and grabbed hold of the back of his t-shirt. "Now, why don't you tell me why a nice boy like you is calling a demon-thing like this 'sire'?"

"He's not a demon-thing!" Sethos was shocked to the bone, even more so that the girl – the surprisingly strong girl – was still a human and not a pillar of salt.

"I tried telling her that," Ptah said.

"He's a God of the Nile!"

"I tried telling her that too," Ptah tried to nod, it didn't work so well.

"And what would a crusty old Nile God be doing at a high school party?" Kennedy asked reasonably.

Sethos opened his mouth to speak, but realised he didn't have an answer. He looked at Ptah with polite enquiry.

"Exactly, you stink of foul play," Kennedy gave Ptah a little shake.

"Actually no, that's just embalming fluid," he mumbled, embarrassed. "The drier I get, the more noticeable it becomes. If someone could just get me a glass of water."

Kennedy ignored him. "And you stink of hapless lackey." She gave Sethos a similar shake.

"I am no one's lackey," he said sullenly, fruitlessly trying to pull away from her grip.

"Oh really? You were bowing a few minutes ago."

I was showing respect. Let me go!"

"Showing respect to a demon? That spells out lackey," Kennedy gave him a sarcastic toothy smile. She was actually having fun for the first time in ages.

"He is not a demon!" Sethos started struggling furiously, not understanding why he couldn't easily break her hold on him. She had him tight by the scruff of his t-shirt, but he was taller than her! "And by manhandling us in this way, you are disrespecting both me and my religion."

Kennedy rolled her eyes, "I'm sure we'll both live."

"This getting absurd," Ptah threw his arms in the air. "Olwyn! Olwyn, can you come out here."

It was unlikely Owen could hear him over the racket in the other room. Zeke was still growling up a storm, the screaming could raise the roof, and through it all Iggy still played a rousing piano accompaniment in d-minor.

"There are more of you?" Kennedy dug her fingers into his hairless scalp as she shook him again.

"If someone doesn't get me a glass of water, bits are going to start dropping off." Ptah said, wincing at her roughness. "Olwyn!"

"Ew."

"Exactly," he agreed.

Across the room a familiar scream cut through all the rest and Kennedy spun around to see Dawn dragged through an open door into the dark.

"Damn!"

Did she leave her demons to go rescue Dawn or would the younger girl take care of herself? Half her problem was solved when the boy she was holding suddenly started acting like a pissed off cat: twisting in her grip, hissing, swiping his hands around in an effort to make her let go. It only took a moment of this before his t-shirt tore and Kennedy was left holding it as the kid raced towards the door Dawn had disappeared through.

"What the hell?" she demanded of Ptah, but he merely shrugged in confusion.

On the other side of the doorway Dawn was dragged deeper into the dark space and pushed against a wall. She tripped on several pairs of empty shoes, only staying on her feet because of the super-strong pale hand holding the front of her shirt.

"Thank you, my dear," the man said in a soft, Slavic accent. She whimpered. "I have been trapped in this broom closet all evening. No handle on the inside," he sighed. "And I am almost dying from hunger. You, it would seem, are my saviour."

"A…and that's a good thing, right? 'C…'cause now you can go get some food." Dawn pushed back against the wall in fear. "So you're not going to hurt me?"

He'd been in this small, smelly cupboard ever since leaving the passages between the walls, and by the time he had realised the door to the foyer didn't open from the inside the door back into the walls had closed and the lever, not used in so many years, refused to be pulled. It had not been an interesting or enjoyable two hours, and when the screaming had started outside, he had been jealous as well as bored to dust.

By the time this skinny girl had opened the door and poked her head in, he was past pissed off and in no way inclined to play by Olwyn's rules. He'd missed out on a feast of stag and otter blood tonight, and while he was indeed grateful to be released, he was also hungry. Human blood would just have to do.

"That is not quite what I meant." The Count smiled and morphed.

Suddenly Dawn could see his eyes a whole let better, mostly because they'd gone all yellow and glowy, and she decided screaming again would be a good idea about now.

Then there was a third person in the little closet, one whose features it was hard to make out because of the dark, and because they were blurry – and that wasn't her eyes playing tricks, they really were blurry, changing. Dawn hit her third screaming wind, reaching new pitches that nearly deafened all in the closet as the new figure, hissing and spitting, went for the Count.

Dawn tried to get out of the closet while the two tussled with each other, but the loose shoes scattering the floor made her stumble with every step. She fell to her knees, one arm becoming trapped in old leather riding boot and suddenly there was a noise higher than the hissing; a squeaking noise. Thinking 'rat!' she launched herself back up, the boot coming with her, and something flew at her, leathery wings brushing her face over and over.

Screaming again, had she even stopped? She lurched out of the door back into the light and through her tangled hair could see the flying rat, make that BAT! and tried to run away from it, one hand and one boot waving in the air above her. The bat stayed with her, seemingly trying to bite her as it flapped around her head like a giant mammalian mosquito. She heard Kennedy call to her, but she wasn't about to stop when a bat was trying to suck her blood and it chased her all the way out the front door and beyond.

"Da…?" Kennedy began again, but gave it up when she realised Dawn was already too far away to hear her. "Did your lackey just turn into a bat?"

Ptah looked just as puzzled. "I do not know why or how he could."

Before she could question him further, before she could blink again in fact, the chaos in the house abruptly centralized in the foyer. A fresh score of teenagers came racing out of the ballroom; Alison, Miranda and Cici at the back.

"Kennedy!" Miranda yelled as they spotted her, and it was possibly the first time they had ever been truly pleased to see her.

"What's going on? What are you running from?" she demanded, letting go of Ptah in her urgency.

"That!" Cici yelled as a brown wolf, inexplicably wearing slacks and a pin stripe shirt, appeared at high, over-excited, speed.

"You're Slayers!" Kennedy yelled, not giving a crap about secret identities right now. "Why are you running away?"

"Because I left my tranq. gun in my other pants!" Alison squealed as all three ran through the front door and disappeared.

Zeke had skidded to a halt when he saw Ptah, who was holding his bandages up so he could see. His flanks were heaving from running about and his tongue lolled between his sharp teeth, drool dripping on the floor.

Kennedy watched him and the Mummy man warily, not sure whether making sudden movements would be a good thing – she didn't have any weapons either – but as it happened, the sudden movement came from the dark closet.

Kennedy's eyes went wide and she took an unintentional step back as the black panther bounded into the light. Zeke howled, the cat roared, fur puffed up, hackles rose and then all out bedlam took over as both creatures gave into their age-old instincts.

The large foyer rapidly felt way too small as the two tore about, yelping, screeching, baying, hissing, pouncing, diving, scrabbling, at one point ricocheting off the wall and generally scaring the crap out of Kennedy and Ptah who were caught in the middle of the demonic maelstrom. Literally, when the two creatures stopped haring about to catch their breath, both growling ferociously as they stared each other down.

Realising a pounce from either one of them was going to see her in the crossfire, and not even wanting to imagine how much would be left of her if they both pounced together, Kennedy decided to obey the first rule of Slaying and ran like hell out the open door.

Ptah, having had the exact same thought, ran only a second later, and not a second too soon, He didn't turn to look as the two came crashing together, he didn't need to, he could hear exactly how it was going. In his hurry, his bandages slipped back over his eyes and he ran with his arms outstretched so he wouldn't bump into anything. Excellent idea in theory, but he had forgotten about the front steps. As he made a painful dive onto the gravel drive, the black panther leapt over his fallen body, his friend followed.

"Zeke! Help me up!"

Ptah raised the bandages from his eyes to see them racing away towards the woods, emitting a cacophony of animalistic yips and yowls, and sighed heavily. Zeke wouldn't be back for a while.

_Tbc..._


	13. Act 3:6

Thank you for the reviews :). It is getting a little chaotic, isn't it g. This is the last part of the act three.

* * *

As soon as she saw the glinting knife, Rona turned and ran. She tripped up some more steps, bouncing off the walls in the darkness, her hands out more to keep her balance than to find any door levers. She needed to get ahead, find a suitable nook to wedge herself in to lie in wait for her dagger-wielding attacker. That was the only way she was gonna be able to get the better of him in the narrow space. Even just being able to stick a leg out and trip him would at least give her time to swoop down with her wooden spoon!

Unbeknownst to Rona, her 'attacker' had shrieked when she had and run down the narrower corridor that lay at a right angle to the one along the exterior wall. In seconds nothing but his scampering footsteps suggested there had ever been a second person there.

Reece stopped at the top of the steps, listening intently to the two sets of footsteps running in different directions; and the almost as loud running footsteps that seemed to be coming from the other side of the wall with accompanying screams and growling and… some kind of piano sonata?

Hoping rather futilely that he had already forged some kind of symbiotic link with his Slayer, he picked a direction to follow at random and steadily set off again.

* * *

The ballroom was mostly empty, with just a few stragglers uneasily wandering back in through the patio doors now that Zeke's noise had faded.

Iggy was still playing the piano like a very musically-gifted madman, cheerfully providing a soundtrack for the fun and games. He'd been a little disappointed when his lady-friend had run off screaming – Victor's fault for trying to grab her straight off the piano stool – but she'd been too young for him anyway, really.

Owen had followed the worst of the rumpus out into the foyer, probably, Iggy surmised, to give Zeke a good talking to if he could get him to calm down for half a second.

"There! That one." Victor pointed surreptitiously to a tall blonde walking across the ballroom looking even more lost than the rest of the shocked kids.

"A girl?" asked his friend, uncertainly.

"It's the twenty-first century, so they tell me," Victor said. "Equal opportunities abound; and gender will make no difference to the experiment."

The four boys from Boudenver Academy had long since run away, deciding to abandon their equipment in favour of saving their heights. Of his other two choices, Iggy's lady friend had screamed so loud, he'd been worried about losing focus at a crucial moment, and the second, well the boy had been so short already that even his pure scientist's soul didn't think that was fair.

"Please, go and fetch her." Victor urged his friend.

"But…"

Victor gave him a look.

"I do this under duress," his friend intoned to no one in particular and then went to do as he was told, because that was what he did, what he had been built to do.

Iggy's tune turned darker, his many fingers thumping the keys in a dramatic style.

Naomi was so surprised to find herself unexpectedly picked up gently by the tallest man she had ever seen in her life, that she didn't even scream. She stared at him with wide eyes, her breathing shallow as he carried her back towards the stage.

"What… what do you want? Put me down!"

He didn't look at her, but stared straight ahead as he walked purposely forward. His forehead was huge and had a tattoo of stitches across it. God she hoped it was a tattoo! His mouth was a grim, unhappy line and his eyes looked sad.

"What are you doing?" she asked as he laid her down on the stage.

She tried struggling, but he held down her shoulders with one hand and her ankles with his other and it was like struggling against steel.

"Please don't." she insisted, figuring this was a good one size fits all response to whatever he had planned.

Naomi didn't know what the hell had happened in the last hour, but it had been way more of a Halloween party that she had expected. When the wolf man had started chasing people around, she had run one way and the three Slayers had run the other – which in hindsight hadn't been the best plan, but then they hadn't actually had time for planning – She had only just made it through the patio doors without losing the rear out of her outfit.

She had come back in to the find everyone once the confusion seemed to have simmered down, but no one was about, no one she recognised anyway. No Slayers, no Reece, no one she could shout to for help.

"Okay these won't hurt." A short man, maybe in his fifties with dark hair brill-creamed to his head, leaned over her.

"What won't hurt?" She was still struggling valiantly, but it was having no discernable effect.

"These?" He held them up so she could see thin black and red wires with a cross between a clamp and a needle at the end of each one.

"How can they not hurt!" she demanded. It was hurting just to imagine what they might be for.

"They will hurt, but only for a minute," said the big man holding her, and she had a feeling, by the way he said it, that he was speaking from experience.

"Really, my friend, we must work on you bedside manner when we return home."

"If the child _must_ endure this, she should know the truth at least."

"Why are you suddenly so squeamish?"

"I do not think this is necessary."

"Would you prefer me skip the experimental stage and simply try it on you?"

"It could kill."

"That's a highly improbably outcome. Look, I only intend to take an inch from her, but if it works, I could shorten you by a foot, more if you wish."

Naomi watched the exchange above her with terrified eyes.

The big man looked down at her, his eyes sadder than before, but somehow hopeful too. "I am sorry. Close your eyes, it will be over very soon."

"Oh dear Lord." She was trembling now more than struggling. She closed her eyes, not because of the instruction, but because she couldn't bear to look at them anymore. "Please? Please don't do this."

"Hey Guys, what's going on?"

The chirpy, cheerful voice made her open her eyes again. She breathed a sigh of relief, but Andrew didn't even spare her a glance as he grinned at the two men.

"Nothing, go away," Victor said curtly.

"It doesn't look like nothing to me. Hey, is that a robot woman?" he asked excitedly, finally looking down at Naomi's body, but not meeting her eyes. "My friend used to program his robo-chicks with something like this. It was way cool."

"No, she is not a robot." Victor was peering at him suspiciously, not sure what to make of this enthusiastic lanky boy. "Your friend is a scientist?"

"In a way." Andrew nodded. He went around to the other side of what they had all thought to be turntables earlier and looked at all the mystical slash technical buttons and dials in genuine delight. "And I was sort of his assistant."

"Was?"

"He died. So what are you doing? Is that a real girl?" He looked over the top of the equipment at Naomi again.

"Yes, it is a real girl." Said the big man irritably. "Why don't we experiment on him instead? He is just as tall."

"No, no, I've prepared her now," Victor said as he finished rubbing some liquorice smelling oil on both of Naomi's temples. "Besides…" he let that hang in the air as he studied Andrew intently for several moments.

"So what are you doing?" Andrew asked again.

"We are going to make her shorter." Victor said grandly, rubbing his hands together.

"Cool!" Andrew's face split into an excited grin. "Can you really do that?"

"We're going to try."

"Ooh can I help?"

"You're going to help him?" Naomi shouted, struggling harder. "You wanker!"

"Hey, there's no need for name calling!" Andrew shouted back, gaining a look of respect from Victor. "I used to be an evil mastermind, you know? Just because I've decided to try out a redemptive path to see how it feels, doesn't mean I don't still have urges!"

Naomi managed to kick her legs around a little. "You arse! Shorter or not, I'm still gonna beat seven shades of poo out you when I get out of this."

"I promise you this won't hurt for long, please just lay still." Victor held the wires up to her head, ready to stick them in and clamp them down.

"See, he said they wouldn't hurt much," Andrew tried to sooth her. "Stop acting like a baby."

Victor turned the blonde man again thoughtfully. "You know, I have not met anyone as refreshing as you in a long time."

"Thanks." Andrew beamed. "Uh, that was a compliment, right?"

"Yes." Victor gave him a small smile. "I wonder, are you currently employed?"

Andrew sighed deeply, "Well, if you can call it that. Washing dishes and cooking and cleaning the house for minimum wage and no verbal thanks whatsoever. Everyone else thinks they have it so hard, but no one even notices all the hard work I do all day every day."

"Cooking, and cleaning houses," Victor asked surprised. "But that's woman's work."

"So much for equal opportunities," muttered his friend.

Victor ignored him. "No, a strapping lad like you should be in proper employment; doing work that befits your bright mind and enthusiasm. Have you ever considered full time Igor-ing?"

"Huh?"

"Sorry, I should not use slang terms, but they are just so easy to fall into. It means to be a full time…" he mumbled something that sounded like '_dad' _"…scientist's assistant."

"A what scientist?" Naomi asked.

"It's not important, just more slang. So are you interested?"

"In working for you?" Andrew smiled as he contemplated it. "Like I'd get to help with experiments and stuff?"

"Yes, I had a chap, but he turned out to be a buffoon," he shot Igor – still at the piano and listening in – a dirty look. "So I have an opening."

"Yeah, okay," Andrew clapped his hands together. "It has to be better than what I'm doing now. So did you want me to start right this minute? I could push the buttons, or I could stick the wires in her, or… or, you know, whatever you need? How much will I get paid?"

There was a harsh, "Hah!" from Igor, but when they all looked over he was playing with his eyes closed, his lumpy head swaying dreamily from side to side.

"We'll discuss money later," Victor said hurriedly. "And I think it best for your first time if you come around here and push the electrodes in while I handle the dials. Too much power and she will end up the same height as Paddy."

Andrew hastily came around to Naomi's side and took the electrodes from his new boss.

"Oh God, no, what are you thinking? Get off of me, now!" Naomi started yelling as Victor pointed to two ink dots he'd marked, one on either temple.

"Now, red in this side, black in the other. I appreciate you are bound to make a mistake at some point in your training, but please, don't let it be now."

"Red in the left, black in the right. Got it." Andrew promised. "When do I stick them in her?"

"With the way she is thrashing about it would best to wait until I am ready."

Victor moved around to the other side of the equipment and started pressing buttons at speed with one hand and spinning the dial carefully to where he wanted it with his other. He'd never used this gear before, but you wouldn't know it to watch him; either he was really good at what he did, or really bad.

"Okay…" Victor held his hand up as he looked at the energy reading on the digital screen rise. "Okay now!"

Andrew dropped the wires and threw all his weight into the not-turntables. It toppled easily on its stand and crashed into a surprised Victor. As the 'friend' was rising to tackle Andrew, the ex-evil mastermind turned back the other way and brought his foot up hard between the big man's legs. It wasn't clear who it hurt the most as they both yelped. The man went to his knees, surprise and pain twisting his already unattractive features, and the almost a man started to hop about, clutching his foot in both hands.

Victor launched himself over the damaged equipment, intent on throttling Andrew to death, but Naomi was rising from the stage now, and it was such an easy shot she couldn't resist. Her fist connected with Victor's nose and he staggered back, tripping over the magical transmuter and landing amid its wreckage.

"Time to go." Naomi shook her bruised fist in the hopes it would lessen the pain – it didn't – and grabbed Andrew's arm, who went from hopping to hobbling towards the patio doors.

"Get them back!" Victor demanded angrily.

Iggy's eyes were open again and he was grinning in glee as he switched to a wacky _Benny Hill_ style chase tune.

Victor's friend dutifully marched across the ballroom. He was a little pissed himself. He hadn't wanted to do the experiment on the girl, it had just felt wrong – she was so pretty – but he hadn't wanted his one chance at fitting in with normal humans turned into a pile of fizzling spare parts either.

Andrew and Naomi made it the patio doors as fast as possible and instead of running away, made for the closest patch of dense shrubbery, planning to hide for a while before making their getaway.

They watched as the big man came through the doors, looked left and right and then took the shortest route around to the front of the house to find them.

"Thanks," Naomi said quietly after a few moments.

"You're welcome. Sorry it took me so long. I'm not really any good at rescuing the girl." Andrew whispered.

"Well, you did really well at it tonight," Naomi promised, and then hesitantly added, "Sorry I called you a wanker."

"That's okay." There was a pause. "What is a wanker?"

Naomi blushed. "Um, ask Craig."

* * *

"So then he said that the best kind of love was all wild and passionate and dangerous and trust was less important than that," Buffy was saying as they walked up the dark road through the woods. "Kinda the whole 'If you feel a thing and I feel a thing that's all that matters', but in Spike-speak."

They were about halfway home now, but neither of them was rushing. Faith had made an offhand joke about Buffy's trust issues a mile back. Buffy was still explaining, or trying to.

"Well so far, I'm not disagreeing." Faith shrugged. "Wild, passionate and dangerous sounds pretty good to me."

"This was about a minute before he…" There was a pregnant pause, about nine months pregnant, and Faith got it then.

"Before he...!"

Buffy spoke quickly before she could finish, "Before he tried to do what he tried to do, yes. It didn't exactly sell me on the wild, passionate and dangerous angle."

"I can get that. Can't say I like you thinking I'm anything like him though," she admitted.

She remembered Xander, looking up at her in fear as she was grinding down on him, her hands around his throat… and she pulled away from Buffy's hand to run both of hers through her hair, tugging it hard as she tried to force the memory away.

"I would never, ever do that to you! I know you got no reason to believe me, but I swear, Buffy; I'd… I'd… I don't know, jump off'a the roof, or drink a bottle of bleach first…"

"Faith, it's okay, I know you wouldn't." Buffy moved in front of her, making her stop, and put her hands on Faith's shoulders comfortingly. "That thought never even crossed my mind."

Faith really wanted to believe that, but… she looked deep into Buffy's eyes. "I done shit like that, B, you know that. I don't blame you if that's why you don't trust me. Shit, you really know how to pick us, girlfriend."

Buffy smiled. "That's true, but… Faith, what you did before you went to prison, that's… that wasn't you! I mean, it was you, obviously, but it wasn't the real you; it was the you who was scared and confused and alone and trying to act like she wasn't any of that. You let the Slayer – who, let's face it, is part demon anyway – take the wheel and you made some really bad decisions because of it, but, I remember the girl you were before the accident with Finch and I know the woman you were when you came back to Sunnydale six months ago and… that's who I'm with now. That's who…" Faith held her breath when Buffy hesitated, before repeating, with a self-conscious smile, "…I'm with now."

Faith slowly smiled and reached up to tuck some hair behind Buffy's ear. She wanted to kiss her, but didn't dare; she didn't want to reduce this conversation to another bicker-fest about doing it.

"You keep making me feel better like that, I'm not even gonna need therapy," she said instead.

"Oh, I don't know, I don't think I'm _that_ good." Buffy smirked at her.

"Funny." Faith smiled, and Buffy kissed her.

It only lasted a second or two, which was just as well seeing as her heart stopped as soon as Buffy's lips touched hers. She wondered if kissing Buffy would ever be less than a phenomenal thing, and she really hoped not.

"Thank you," she sighed.

"Thank you?" Buffy grinned.

"I, uh," Faith looked down at where the light of the half moon made the boots on Buffy's feet shine, embarrassed.

Buffy chuckled and touched her fingertips to Faith's down tucked chin. Looking up, Faith's heart stopped all over again as Buffy moved in for a slightly more lingering kiss.

"You're welcome," Buffy said softly as she pulled back again.

Thinking it was okay now Faith's hands went to Buffy's waist, holding her gently as she leaned in to kiss her. Buffy met her halfway; her hand's going to Faith's shoulders.

Faith's heart restarted with a jolt when she realised this time Buffy wasn't pulling away, and then it started going triple time when there were suddenly two tongues in her mouth. She wasted no time in taking advantage of it, and God! Buffy's tongue felt so good against her own; so soft, so strong, so… eager.

"God, I love kissing you!" Buffy mumbled against her lips.

How something so simple, so vanilla when it came right down to it, could get her so aroused was beyond Faith. While running on a kinda low level horny all the time, it usually took more than this to get her so worked up, but Buffy's mumbled words had her tingling all over, especially in the good places.

"Feel free to do it as much as you want," Faith mumbled back, before her tongue slipped into Buffy's hot, lime-and-alcohol-tasting mouth again.

"'Kay." Buffy's arms were around her neck now, hers around Buffy's waist, holding her close, their bodies flush together.

Some little annoying voice in the back of Faith's brain was telling her to stop now. To show Buffy she could be restrained and respectful and shit. Buffy had her issues, and gee did Faith know how that could screw you up, and she was pretty sure their conversation on this road, however sweet and understanding, wasn't gonna resolve them all just like that. She should stop now, walk Buffy home and maybe, hopefully, get a kiss just this hot before it was time to go to bed. It would show Buffy she really did care, that she really had listened, that she really didn't want her just for the physical stuff.

That's what she should do. Wasn't what she was going to do though.

Her hands slid down to Buffy's hot pants and she squeezed her ass cheeks as tenderly as it was possible to do in a move like that. As Buffy moaned softly and plunged her tongue so deep into her mouth that she felt it in her pussy – in a kinda symbolic way obviously – Faith's brain sang out the word 'Hallelujah!' over and over again.

"This okay?" Faith checked when they had to take a minute to catch their breath.

"Better than okay," Buffy assured her.

"Sure you don't wanna take this home and see what happens?"

"No." Buffy shook her head. "I'll have sobered up by the time we walk home."

Faith pulled away a little, not sure that she liked the sound of that, but damned if she knew why exactly.

"Are you saying I'm taking advantage of you?" she asked carefully. "'Cause for some strange reason I don't wanna do that, not tonight anyway."

Buffy smiled. "Not taking advantage per se. Just making the most of me not having the inhibitions we both wish I didn't have the rest of the time."

Faith didn't really follow the sentence, mostly because it was hard to follow anything but the thrill in her chest and the throb in her pants.

"Yeah, okay." She kissed her again, deciding to accept things at face value for now; positive Buffy would soon let her know if she went too far.

The way Buffy was pressing into her, almost rubbing against her, had Faith thinking all the way might not be too far tonight. Buffy's next words just encouraged that thought.

"Oh God, you're making me so hot." Buffy's hands slid under the back of her torn t-shirt, the chill of them fluttering over the overheated skin of her back made Faith moan.

Faith dropped her hands a little, spent a moment stroking the backs of Buffy's thighs, before sliding them up and into the legs of her hot pants. They were so tight that the pressure she had to apply to get under them meant she slid beneath Buffy's panties too. She thought she might explode just from the sensation of the rounded, naked flesh in her palms.

"Ohhhhh!" Buffy shuddered hard against her as the material was pulled tight between her legs and Faith guessed that if she was anything close to as aroused as she was, that had to feel too damn good.

Headlight's swung into view around the bend half a mile up the road, and Faith cursed out loud. Why now? When Buffy was all but humping her. Buffy gave a frustrated little laugh as Faith pulled her hands free from the clingy material. They had to hurry to the side or end up road kill.

Faith was surprised when Buffy caught her hand and pulled her even further off of the road into the complete darkness of the trees. She'd figured the fun was over because of the untimely interruption, but the blonde clearly didn't think so as she pushed her against a tall Pine and ran fingers over her face to find her mouth before kissing her again.

It really was that dark that she could barely make out more than an outline of Buffy even with how close they were, so she closed her eyes and let touch take over. She ran her fingers up Buffy's arms, over her shoulders and down over her collar bones to the flesh pushed upwards by the stiff bodice. She teased there for a while, hearing Buffy's already harsh breathing get heavier, and then tried to press beneath, but the cardboard insert, or whatever it was, really was totally unyielding.

She splayed her hands over the top of it. "Can you even feel this?"

"Not really. Can you feel this?"

Hands slid up the front of her t-shirt to cup her breasts and her head thunked back hard against the tree trunk. "Yes!"

She heard Buffy chuckle. "Good."

"No not good," Faith groaned.

"Not good?" Buffy's hands slipped away.

"No, not that!" Faith said quickly. "That good good!" Great, now she sounded like a retard. "I just wanna get my hands on you too."

"Where your hands were earlier was pretty good good," Buffy whispered, before kissing her again.

Catching on quick Faith emulated her earlier position, her hands inside Buffy's hot pants, the firm curve of her ass warming her palms as she squeezed and pulled Buffy harder against her.

"Oh yeah, like that," Buffy mumbled dreamily as her lips grazed Faith's in a multitude of tiny kisses. "See this is what I mean."

"What is what you mean?"

"This! This heat. This all consuming hotness. This is what I'm scared of."

"Why scared?"

"I had strong feelings for Spike, but it was just heat. A lot of heat, but still just that. We were like wild animals together. He thought that was love, but it wasn't."

Faith really didn't like Buffy talking about Spike while they were this close, while they had their hands all over each other and were only steps away from being even closer, but she figured Buffy must have a point she was trying to get to and one that would probably enlighten her on a few things she should know.

"And?"

"I loved Angel with all my heart. I'd never known the feelings he gave me before, or since…"

Great, now she was bringing _him_ into this too. Faith relaxed her grip and leant her head back against the tree.

"And?"

Buffy dropped her hands to Faith's hips, leaning her chin on her shoulder, cheek against her neck.

"They both ended in heartbreak and disillusion and burned up until there was nothing left."

"And?" Faith asked softly, really hoping the point was around the corner somewhere, and showed up before she felt depressed enough to feed herself to a passing bear.

"And neither of them come close to making me feel the way I do with you," Buffy replied, just as softly. "I want you all the time, I wanna get wild animal with you all the time, and it happened so quickly and we don't have the best history and you've made some questionable choices even since I fell for you and I want to forgive you and get naked with you and pretend the woods are alive with the sound of music, but I'm scared… I'm scared that its all happening too quick and too soon and our fire is gonna burn up and consume the last piece of my heart I have left, because the feelings I have for you… these feelings, they're too strong, they're too wild and dangerous and passionate and that just can't end… good."

Faith pulled her hands free again and spun Buffy around so it was her back against the tree. She cupped her face, holding it gently and placed a small kiss on her lips.

"I am not going anywhere, Buffy. And the way I feel about you isn't going to change, except maybe to get better, if that's even possible. We've been through shit, we'll go through more I expect, but we'll do it together, okay? Let the fire try and consume us, we'll send its ass packing with its flame between its legs. We can be wild, we can do it like animals and we'll wear the scratches with pride, why the hell not? I get what you mean, this is all too damn real for me too, but I'm not gonna run from it, not again, and I'm not gonna let you either. So you better just deal with that and the sooner the fuckin' better for both of us, okay?"

She let her forehead rest against Buffy's staring resolutely into the only part of her she could see.

"Okay," Buffy whispered.

"Okay," Faith agreed and stepped back. "Now let's go home."

"Let's not!" Buffy grabbed the front of her t-shirt and dragged her back again.

"Always gotta be in control!" Faith complained around Buffy's tongue, 'cept not really, obviously, plus there were hands on _her_ ass now and her ass had missed this kinda attention.

"Get used to it," Buffy muttered, turning them again, pressing Faith into the tree so hard with her body, her back was gonna look like a bark rubbing.

Buffy was kissing her like there was no tomorrow, like there was no next minute even. This kiss right here was the embodiment of every dark, wild, dangerous emotion Buffy was afraid of and she was letting them all out of the box at once. All for her. It was Faith for once who could barely keep up, and damn did she like it more than she ever thought.

Buffy reluctantly dragged her mouth away, gasping to get some fresh air in her lungs, but there was now some minor but definite humping action going on in the darkness.

"Buffy," she breathed out, sliding her hands down the back of the hot pants and shifting her legs so the blonde had something more substantial to rock against.

"You want me right here, Faith?" Buffy whispered, warm breath caressing her ear and causing a ripple of electric excitement to stream through her.

"Yes."

"Standing up in the woods like this?"

"Yes."

"Ever fantasized about having your hand down the _front_ of Wonder Woman's hot pants?"

"Not until tonight." Faith grinned, her legs were trembling; that was new.

"Good answer." Buffy's tongue flicked around her ear as she spoke. "Very good answer."

"So that was…" Faith had been about to say 'permission', but Buffy was kissing her again, stealing her words, her breath, her… hand!

It was plucked from the back of the shorts and then Buffy was guiding it around to where she wanted it, breathing hard through her nose as her own excitement rose and rose.

Faith was light-headed. She felt sixteen again, watching Buffy dance across the Bronze, feeling her heart thud in her chest every time the blonde even almost smiled at her. Gazing at her in the library as she trained, in what she thought, hoped, was a cool, uninterested way while subtly rocking on her chair and imagining situations just like this... but never as good as this.

When Buffy seemed sure she was able to take it from there, she fumbled with the fly of Faith's tattered jeans.

Oxygen being an issue, and Faith suddenly needing more of it than usual, she stopped kissing for a minute, licking her lips and swallowing as she felt Buffy's small hand slide inside her costume.

"You're my first Zombie," Buffy chuckled. "This is a special night."

"Yeah," Faith nodded seriously, their noses grazing gently together. "Sure as hell is."

* * *

Dawn ran downhill through the underbrush. She'd meant to stay on the gravel drive, but with the big bat continuously flapping its leathery wings around her head, she'd quickly become disorientated.

The bat had flown off ahead of her a minute before, and while she was feeling far from calm yet, she did have the wits about her to figure that if she kept running down in roughly this direction she'd hit the road between Boudenver and the camp at some point.

That was as if she didn't die from all the running first, of course.

New fear struck her heart as she heard thrashing in the bushes and long grass behind her. She hoped it was just the noise she was making playing tricks on her in the pitch dark of the woods, but the louder it got, the harder it was to convince herself.

She looked over her shoulder as she ran harder and faster, but could see nothing but the trees looming out of the silvery mist that was forming at knee level.

'_Great, because it wasn't spooky enough out here!' _she thought, distressed.

The crashing of running feet seemed to be all around her now, and the woods were revolving like some psychedelic seventies horror movie and then there was a man with shoulder length black hair in an evening suit stepping out from behind a tree and maybe he was a figment of her imagination like Dawn was hoping because as she tried to change direction and sprint past him, he was suddenly in front of her again, and again, and again.

Finally, dizzy now, her chest heaving, sweat dripping from her brow, she stumbled to a stop against a tree. Leaning on it heavily, she looked back and still saw nothing, although there definitely was something back there, coming towards her fast.

As she faced forward again, ready to run some more, she came face to face with her figment-man. He reached out and stroked her face, and should figments be that cold?

"You have played valiantly, my dear, and proven yourself a most worthy victory meal," he said softly. "And out here in the wilderness, Olwyn need never know. In fact, out here," he added, smiling coldly and showing off his fangs. "_No one_ need ever know."

As he held her firmly by one arm and leaned in so close she could feel his chill lips her neck, Dawn screamed like she had never screamed before.

_End of act three_


	14. Act 4:1

Hi guys. Thank you muchly for all the reviews for the last part. One day I promise I will get around to individual thank you's but time always seems to be a factor these days. On that note, I'm coming to the end of my course with the OU and its assignment palooza for the next couple of weeks, so I won't be posting as often this month - sorry. I will try and get this episode finished by the start of October though, fingers crossed.

* * *

Act four

Buffy froze as a scream cut through the fresh night air. It wasn't really the best time to freeze, considering where her hand was, and where Faith's hand was, and just how much happy those hands had been bringing right before the scream.

Talk about a mood killer.

"Did you hear that?" she asked, really hoping she had imagined it so they wouldn't have to stop and investigate.

"Yeah." Faith mumbled against her throat. "Just kids mucking about."

"Just kids, lots of candy, sugar rush, perfectly normal." Buffy nodded and sought out Faith's lips again.

It was like a game of pin the Buffy-lips on the Faith-lips every time in the complete darkness. In places the half moon shone through barer trees to illuminate the silver mist rising from the ground, but right here, beneath their tree, every touch had to be fumbled for. Fumbling was underrated, she decided as Faith's soft lips tripped up and over her chin before their mouths connected in another fiery, tongue-heavy kiss.

The scream came again and lasted longer this time. Buffy groaned as she pulled away.

"What if they're not mucking about?" she sighed.

"It's Halloween, B!" Faith twisted them so that Buffy ended up against the tree. "Nothing's gonna be in these woods to hurt them anyway."

"Don't believe everything you read in the Slayer handbook, Faaaith." Her name accidentally came out on a high moan as Buffy's head lolled back against the tree trunk, her mouth open. "Oh God, don't stop."

"Finally we agree on something." Buffy could hear the grin in her voice and it made her smile too.

After so long of waiting to be this close, this connected – especially physically, because she was feeling very physically connected to Faith right now, her smile turned into a grin – this felt so good. No, good wasn't strong enough, and great was equally lacking, it was… okay, fantastic would have to do, because no other word was presenting itself, oh what about magnificent? Tremendously marvellous? Buffy's brain burbled away to itself as she slowly started to lose all sense and reason.

Maybe this would all still backfire on her, maybe Faith was just full of bullshit, maybe this was the biggest mistake of her life, maybe, just in case, she should just shut the hell up and enjoy it.

And do her best to make sure Faith enjoyed it too. "Oh, yeah, Buffy, like that…!"

This time when the scream pierced their ears, it just went on going. Buffy jerked out of the moment, trying to push Faith away.

"No, no, no, no…" Faith murmured, not letting her.

"I know that scream. It's Dawn!" Buffy said urgently.

"Well, she's kid; she's probably just tearing it up with the rest of them." Faith tried to reason.

"I know the difference between happy-Dawn squeals, and her screaming in terror!" Buffy stared into the woods frantically, not having a clue which direction to run in.

"Shit, okay, come on!" Faith grabbed her hand and started running deeper into the trees.

Buffy ran with her, hoping her girlfriend had better sonar than she did.

* * *

Dawn had just felt the twin pinpricks of death slide into her neck when the crashing behind her caught up.

At first she assumed it was Buffy running to her rescue, because that's what Buffy did, but it was Kennedy flying out of the trees and landing hard on the Vampire's back, her momentum ripping the fangs painfully from Dawn's skin and leaving her standing there, holding her bleeding neck, shaking, while they both fell to the misty ground fighting.

"A Slayer?" The Count drawled, and sounded far too happy about it for Kennedy's liking. "How so much better than otter blood!"

Nope, definitely not liking the sound of that. Kennedy liked it even less when he _floated_ back up to his feet, laughing at her violent punching and kicking. His body absorbed the blows with no apparent side-effects.

"You are not yet strong, Slayer. Did you only rise tonight?"

"Slayers don't rise!" she grunted angrily, trying to be a little more choosy about where she was landing strikes seeing as her brute strength wasn't doing much but humiliating her. "We get Called!"

"On the contrary. You used to get Called, you used to be special, but now you are as common as the fledgling Vampire and just as easy to destroy. You have spread yourself too thin, Slayer." The Count smiled at her, deflecting hit after hit so fast she barely saw his hands move, just felt them slapping away her own. "But, never mind, you still taste good."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Kennedy sneered. "There's more of us than ever."

"Exactly. The essence inside you was only ever supposed to be contained by one girl – to make her strong, fast, something of a challenge – now there are many of you, but the essence has not been altered. Your leader turned that opportunity down. Such a shame. The more of your kind that accept the destiny only a few were ever supposed to endure, the easier your army will fall to us; the better we shall dine."

"Can't you stake him already," Dawn asked, not liking the calm, collected, _effortless_ way this well dressed Vampire was beating Kennedy.

"Little hard without a stake!" Kennedy was already cursing herself for not having one, but she'd been going to a party! On Halloween! The night all her elders had said Vampires didn't venture outside of the cosy little crypts! And okay, so she may have been a little bit tipsy… "How do you know all this anyway?" she demanded.

"I receive the family newsletter." The Count, tired of playing with his food, struck Kennedy in such a way she ended up on her back. He went down onto one knee beside her, staring intently into her eyes and holding her down gently with one hand on her shoulder, well he wasn't really holding her down at all; she could get away if she wanted to… when she wanted to… Um?

"What you have received will never be enough, you already know this." He told her softly. "I can give you more. I can see that you receive your true birthright instead of this second-rate mockery of your strength. I can teach you the history of your power, show you the limits and teach you how to overcome them, give you what you need to be true to your ambition!"

"Kennedy!" Dawn shouted at her, trying to get her to move, to do anything but get lost in the Vampire's eyes.

"Not interested," Kennedy told him dreamily.

"Of course you are," he said. "I can feel it rolling off you in waves. The envy you feel, the jealousy, the fear that you will never get what you truly want; what you so greatly desire. The true essence of the Slayer instilled in your soul!"

Kennedy blinked, ripped from the enchantment. "I'm not interested in that."

"Yes, yes you are. I can see the resentment, smell the longing…"

"Yeah, for Willow, you dipshit." Kennedy snapped, her hand groping the mist-covered woodland floor. "I'm already plenty Slayer, thanks."

"I don't understand," The Count's brow furrowed.

"So let me make it simpler."

Kennedy thrust up with the pine branch she'd found. It wasn't the most effective stake, being a little bendy, but the Count didn't stick around to see if it would have worked or not. He dissolved into silver mist, matching what was already laying ankle high from the ground.

"You fool! This is a decision you will soon regret!" His disembodied voice promised her before that too disappeared completely.

Dawn helped her up, both of them looking around at the trees to see where he had gone to, and more importantly, if he was coming back.

"Well, that was…" Kennedy didn't finish her sentence as she brushed debris from her shoulders. "Are you okay?"

"Nothing a band aid won't fix. I hope. What happened to you there? You, like, froze! That's not normal Slayer behaviour."

"I don't know what happened," Kennedy admitted. "I just… didn't really want to fight him."

"What?"

"Well, the stuff he was saying, it was interesting, some of it."

"What?" Dawn asked louder. "He was a blood-sucking fiend! _My blood_ sucking fiend! And I'm pretty sure he was on drugs too. That's not interesting, that's scary."

"Maybe," Kennedy looked back again and then set her sights forward, wherever the hell forward was, "Come on, let's try and find our way to the road."

"Okay, please Kennedy, tell me the only reason you don't seem traumatised by what just happened is because you are _so _traumatised its like reverse psychology on your brain or something?"

"I'm fine, Dawn. I staked him, didn't it?"

"I guess."

"I just wish I knew what he was talking about. About the essence and birthright and stuff."

"That's what you have a Watcher for," Dawn reminded her.

"Yeah, except I haven't had a Watcher since mine got gutted by Bringers last year," Kennedy reminded her right back.

"Oh yeah," Dawn murmured uncomfortably.

* * *

Rona had kept running until she was pretty sure no one was following her, but it was hard to be sure with all the noise coming from the main rooms in the house. What the hell was going on out there? Surely her knocking a picture down hadn't caused this much fuss?

She had a feeling the mysterious group she thought she'd been so stealthily following, had made it out into the party and were causing whatever kind of trouble they'd been planning in the library. Which made her feel like an idiot seeing as she gotten herself trapped inside the walls looking for them.

The tunnel – well it was starting to feel like a tunnel now, pushing in on her with its darkness – had taken a few left and right turns while she'd been running for her life, and now she had no clue whereabouts in the house she might be. Not that she really cared where she popped out now, she just wanted to pop out alive.

And that likelihood got less likely again when the sound of scurrying met her ears once more. She stopped, thinking, '_For Christ sake!' _and wondered whether to turn and run the other way again, but she'd had enough now. She was a Slayer, and she might not be much of one yet, but it still had to count for something.

All this running away was starting to seriously dent her pride!

She pulled the wooden spoon out of her pocket and stood her ground, waiting for the scurrying to come closer.

* * *

Reece had lost his bearings somewhat inside the house, but he felt like he must have made at least a circuit of it by now with the way the corridor kept twisting and turning.

He'd been steadily following the scampering footsteps for a while, speeding up when they did, and slowing down likewise. The occasional muffled cursing he could hear had convinced him it wasn't Rona he was following, or anyone else American for that matter, and he didn't know why this person, or thing quite possibly, was running around here behind the walls, but he felt it was his duty as a member of the Watcher's Council of England to find out.

He had no weapons on him, but he did have some loose change in his trouser pocket. He scooped it up in his hand and rattled it gently until it was a nice roll in his fist. He didn't know how effective it was, he'd only ever seen it done in films, but it did make his hand feel heavier and hopefully it would pack a punch.

He turned another almost pitch dark corner and realised the scampering footsteps had stopped not far up ahead. He could hear harsh, anxious breathing and the smell of vodka invaded his senses again.

From the very faint light coming through the slit of a window at the far end of the corridor, Reece could see a silhouette. The figure was taller than he would have given the footsteps credit for, but not as tall as he was. They appeared to be waiting for him, but there was a chance, as he was in the deeper darkness, they didn't know how close he was.

This was it then. Holding his breath he inched closer, raising his money clenching fist in the air in case he was attacked before he was ready to attack.

'_This is it then," _he repeated to himself. '_Time to see if I've got what it takes.'_

* * *

"This is stupid!" Buffy dug her heels in and pulled on Faith's hand to get her to stop running. "For all we know we're going around in circles. We're never going to find Dawn this way."

"Well at least the screaming's stopped," Faith tried to reassure her. "That's… probably a good thing."

Okay, so she wasn't very good at the reassuring thing, but Buffy would give her points for effort later, when she wasn't so worried about her little sister.

"What if it's not a good thing?" Buffy spun around, but in the dark every way looked the same. They all had trees and mist and stupid amounts of obscurity. "What if she's…?"

"Hey," Faith cut her off soothingly. "No point thinking like that. Don't you have your phone on you?"

"Huh? What? My phone?" Buffy worked through the problem as quickly as possible. "My phone! I do! It's in your pocket!"

Faith wisely didn't waste time asking how it had ended up in her pocket – because Buffy hadn't brought a handbag and there was only room in her cleavage for her money – and just dug it out. Buffy took it almost before Faith could hand it over and pressed the speed dial button for her sister's number.

"Come on!" she muttered urgently, pacing between the trees.

"_Hello?"_

"Dawn! Dawn, is that you?" Buffy shouted into the phone, not caring about her sister's attachment to her hearing.

"_Whoa, Buffy? Yeah it's me. Of course it's me. It's my phone. What's wrong?"_

"I heard you screaming. Are you okay? What happened?"

"_How did you hear me screaming? Where are you?"_

"I'm in the woods… somewhere." Buffy looked around as if that would tell her. "Where are you?"

"_Also in the woods somewhere."_

"But you're okay? Why were you screaming?"

"_Uh, the woods are scary at night and, uh, there was this bat and it made me scream, but I'm okay now."_

Dawn was hiding something, Buffy just knew it.

"Well, what are you doing in the woods alone?"

"_I'm not alone; I'm with Kennedy."_

Buffy frowned. "Okay, what are you doing in the woods with Kennedy? You shouldn't be in the woods at this time of night, Dawn. Kenny knows you're not supposed to go patrolling unless I agree to it first."

"_We weren't patrolling. We were running, uh, walking, uh, taking a shortcut home from the party."_

"Through the thick woods over a mile from Boudenver?" Buffy's frown deepened. "Where exactly was this party?"

"_Uh…" _

As Dawn hesitated, Buffy saw Faith grinning at her and rolled her eyes.

"Okay, let me make this simple for you. I'm supposed to be on a date tonight, a date that was going very well until ten minutes ago when I heard you screaming your head off. Now you have two choices: Tell me the truth about this party and all you'll get is me being pissed off when I finally get out of these woods and home. Or don't tell me the truth and you're grounded until Christmas."

"_You can't ground me; I'm nearly seventeen!"_

"I beg to differ baby-sister. Mom was still grounding me when I was eighteen. And if you refuse to do as you are told, I'll just get Giles to stop paying you research money, and I'll make sure no one gives you a ride anywhere and if you even thinking about getting your friends to pick you up, I'll get Xander to lay bear traps on the drive – front and back."

As there was a deep sigh from the other end of the phone, Faith nuzzled her neck from behind, whispering, "I take it back, you getting your guardian on is hot!"

Buffy giggled and shushed Faith so she could listen to Dawn's fantastical tale about her night. Except not that fantastical, because she should have really known something like what Dawn was describing would happen, because when on Halloween didn't it?

* * *

It hadn't taken long for every teenager in the house to figure out something they hadn't signed up for was going on. From 'ghosts' in the wall to panthers and wolves running around and Mummies and bats and foreign dudes trying to electrocute them.

They'd all fled as fast as their little legs could take them and as Owen was joined in the centre of the ballroom by his sheepish friends, all that was left of them was the squealing of tires on the gravel drive outside.

"Well…" Owen began looking around at them all.

Zeke's tail gently thumped the floor in embarrassment. Ptah held his bandages above his downcast eyes. Victor fiddled with his sleeves and fidgeted in his guilt and his friend just stared at the far wall, not meeting anyone's eyes. The Count whistled casually between his fangs to hide his smile.

Igor finished his tune with a discordant thump of the keys, left the piano and jumped cheerfully off of the stage.

"Well," he called, gambolling jovially over to them. "I think tonight wath a roaring thucceth for human/thupernatural relationth everywhere, don't you think?"

The shamefaced tension broke on his joke and even Owen found himself laughing.

"Come," he said, still smiling. "The monsters left us _a little _food. Let us take some though to the drawing room and have a drink."

As they all grabbed dishes and bowls and bottles, the Count asked casually,

"So where is Paddy? Is he still chasing the humans off?"

Owen looked around, realising he hadn't seen him all night. "Oh dear."

_Tbc... thanks for reading._


	15. Act 4:2

Hi everyone, I'm back. Just a short bit this time, because I wanted to keep my promise of updating at the start of October, but I'll be back with more after the weekend. probably Wednesday. Thanks for the reviews for the last chapter, hope you like this one too.

* * *

Paddy was cornered, trapped; there was nowhere left to run.

His legs were tired, his drunken good cheer had long since been on the wane and he'd eaten his glow worm hours ago… It hadn't tasted as good as it looked.

He'd been racing around these dark, dusty house innards ever since disappointingly realising he wasn't tall enough to reach the handle lever to the wine cellar door, and then more alarmingly realising he couldn't reach the handle lever to _any_ of the bleedin' doors!

It had been scary enough to think that he was going to have to wander these lonely passageways alone all night; but nowhere near as scary as finding he wasn't so alone after all.

There were kids in here with him. Kids! The cruellest creatures known to earth. And they'd been hunting him all night long. Sometimes stalking him, sometimes trying to run him down. He didn't know how many, but if had to guess, he'd say at least a dozen were in the walls with him. They were everywhere. It didn't matter how fast he scurried, or how many turns he made, there was always one there, either in front or behind, watching, waiting, ready to get him.

And now he was done for, they'd got him, sandwiched him between them and there was no lucky side corridor to dash down this time. Trembling with fright, he held his long carving knife out in front of him again.

"Let dem try an' use me for a football dis time. Clap if they can toss me aboyt wi' only wan 'and!" Paddy muttered under his breath, tensed and ready for a scuffle.

Hearing what sounded like a muttered threat, Rona leapt in from one side and Reece from the other, both figuring they should end it before the other could start it.

Reece's coin-filled fist sailed high over Paddy's head and landed hard on Rona's cheek. She yelped in pain, but it didn't stop her wooden spoon's harmless trajectory over Paddy's head from slapping with a sharp sting against Reece's nose.

Paddy looked up fearfully at the commotion above him and realised they seemed strangely intent on beating the blazes out of each other. Was he supposed to join in? If he could knock one of the silly beggers over, he could stand on them to reach a door handle

"Nah. Feck dis 'assle!" he decided and, pushing his way through Rona's legs, he ran for it again.

* * *

"What the hell…?" Rona stopped trying to push her spoon up Reece's nose when she felt something go roughly between her legs, nearly making her lose her balance.

"Rona?" Reece let go of her shirt and lowered his fist.

"Reece?" Rona sounded even more surprised than he did. "Is that you? Why are you attacking me?"

Reece relaxed his grip on the coins. His hand hurt from punching with them. "I thought you were something else. Why are you trying to stir my nostril?"

Rona pulled the wooden implement away from his face. "Me too. I was following a something else, but somehow they ended up following me."

"So if we were both following it, where is it?" Reece turned to look around him but it was impossible to make out anything more than faint outlines in the dark.

Rona looked behind her, remembering the sensation of something pushing between her knees. "Shush!"

Reece obeyed automatically and instantly they could both pick out the sound of scampering feet echoing away from them.

"After you," Reece gestured courteously.

Rona rolled her eyes. "Try and keep up."

"I'll do my best," Reece muttered to himself as Rona raced off ahead of him.

* * *

"It doesn't matter that I told her now, right?" Dawn asked again, partly for something to say and partly because the intricacies of social etiquette were still eating at the back of her brain. "I mean the party's over. It's not really like I snitched or anything, right?"

Kennedy walked indifferently beside her, hands in her pockets, eyes on the trees as they loomed out of the mist towards them. "Well, you told Buffy where it was, when it was, who some of the guests were and some of the stuff that happened."

Dawn frowned pitifully at her, not liking her chances now the charges against her were being read aloud. "It's not like I had any choice! And I didn't rat out any of my friends, well, except you and Reece. Sorry." Dawn tried an ingratiating smile now, but was surprised Kennedy even flicked her eyes around to receive it. "The only other guests I mentioned were the _alternative_ ones."

Kennedy shrugged off her apology. "I don't answer to Buffy. Not when it comes to my personal life anyway."

"I think she's madder that you took me with you to an unsupervised party in an abandoned house."

"_I_ took _you_?" Kennedy asked. "You told her I dragged your protesting, innocent butt to the Halloween party you didn't even bother inviting me to?"

"Not exactly," Dawn hedged. "That was just the conclusion she leapt to; and I swear she had to make a real big leap from what I said to… to there."

Kennedy rolled her eyes and actually grinned a little bit. "I'm gonna tell her I only found out at the last minute and insisted on coming so I could keep an eye on you. That should cover me if Willow asks why I went without saying anything too." Adding in a lower voice, "Though that's a pretty big 'If'."

"Maybe not," Dawn said, grinning optimistically. "I mean she must have missed you by now."

"If she has, it's not bothering her too much. I've been checking my phone every half hour since we left home and I haven't had any 'Where the hell are you?' texts yet. She's obviously too tired out from her day to care where I am."

Dawn wasn't sure what to say. She wanted to contest Kennedy's assumptions, if only on the basis that she knew Willow better than the new Slayer, but that was just the thing, she did know Willow better and it made the assumptions kind of hard to contest. She would have texted or called if she was worried, surely, so the lack of contact had to mean she was distracted by something else, something the Witch felt was more important. Not exactly an ego-booster; Dawn winced on Kennedy's behalf.

Kennedy looked over after the long silence, obviously expecting some response.

Dawn shrugged. "At least _you_ care again. That's a start, right?" In the dim light of the moon, she saw Kennedy's features harden, and realised she may have been a little blunter than she had meant to be. "Oh, I didn't mean that… that…"

Kennedy let her off the hook with a little shrug of her shoulders. "Don't bother, you have a point. I know I haven't been much with the caring and sharing recently. Sorry."

Dawn chuckled nervously. "Why are you apologising to me for?"

"I'm not sure," Kennedy admitted. "But I know I've been pissing you off, and I'm not quite sure how, but I figure it's a side affect of my terminal black cloud."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because apparently I'm pissing a lot of people off," Kennedy muttered, adding sarcastically, "Just by being myself; quite the achievement."

"That's just it, Kennedy. You haven't been yourself."

"That's what your boyfriend said. All of a sudden everyone knows me better than I do."

"Maybe you knew, you just didn't want to admit it."

"Maybe I was just burying my head in the sand, you mean? Waiting for my problems to solve themselves? Pretending I don't care so that when Willow dumps me for Osborne nobody will guess how much it bothers me?"

"Well, it was just a theory." Dawn said uncomfortably.

The woods were quiet apart from the cry of some night bird warning his friends of their approach.

"So it_ would_ bother you?"

"Of course it would bother me," Kennedy muttered.

"Only, that's kinda news to me, which means it's probably news to Willow too."

"Yeah, well I don't do things by halves."

"Except love Willow."

Kennedy didn't shrug off Dawn's bluntness this time; she stopped walking and levelled her with a fierce glare. Dawn didn't back down either, or apologise. If Kennedy was ready to talk about this now, she was gonna talk, and shying away from the more dangerous comments wouldn't do her any favours. Of course, it might not do Dawn any either, but she was trying to be a friend here! Plus there was the fact that Kennedy_ had_ pissed her off tonight, even before she'd caught her on the bed with Reece.

"Well?" she asked, when Kennedy just kept glaring. "Do you love her or not? Because it seems like you don't give a crap one minute, and then are all worried she's gonna leave you the next."

"I give a crap!" Kennedy said slowly, but angrily. "I give a big freaking crap. It's her that doesn't."

"So you do love her?"

Kennedy finally looked away and Dawn breathed a silent sigh of relief. Not that she'd really been worried… but Kennedy had one hell of glare on her. Kinda like Buffy's.

"Yeah, I'm in love with her. Really, really in love with her," Kennedy said softly. "And I don't wanna lose her."

Even more relieved, Dawn smiled. "Thank goodness for that. For a while there I thought I was going to have to find a way to kill you in your sleep."

Kennedy looked back at her in surprise. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Dawn frowned as she tried to find the best way to explain. "I love Willow. Ever since Mom died, she's sort of filled that role in a way. Don't get me wrong, I know Buffy tries hard, and she's good with the strict, but it's always been Willow that really got me, you know? It was always her that, her little dark patch aside, made sure I was… nurtured…"

Kennedy smiled and frowned at that at the same time. "Come again?"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "I don't know how else to explain it. Sure, Buffy cared for me, and put a roof over my head and food in my tummy and made sure I went to school and made sure I was safe from evil creatures and stuff, but it was Willow and Tara that made time for me and listened to me when I was upset, even if it was about stupid stuff, and… and when they split up it was awful… almost like my dad leaving all over again."

Confused, Kennedy stepped closer. "I don't get what that has to do with…"

"When Tara died it was even worse than when Buffy did!" Dawn knew she wasn't explaining this well – _hello_, there had been reasons why she'd shied away from having this conversation with Kennedy, the 'near tears' feeling she was having right now at merely the memory of last year being just one of them. "I don't mean just for me. I was devastated when Buffy died, but she came back! I knew Tara never would… she never will… and it nearly killed Willow, literally! It ripped out her heart."

Kennedy stepped back again, throwing up her arms. "If it's not Oz, it's Tara! I am so sick of hearing those names! Can you see why I've been acting so crazy lately? I love Will and I'm trying to be with her, but I'm constantly getting her ex's shoved down my throat; and now my supposed best friend is threatening to kill me in my sleep because I'm not Tara-the-freakin'-wonder-Goddess!"

Dawn slapped Kennedy's face hard, surprising them both.

Kennedy swiftly raised her hand to retaliate and Dawn flinched back. Sighing angrily, she rubbed her stinging cheek instead as she bit off, "You get a free one because I was being stupidly insensitive. Now get to your point."

"It's simple," Dawn said, her voice trembling a little. "I don't ever want to see Willow hurt like that again. Especially not if it can be avoided."

"I think you're over-estimating my ability to hurt Willow," Kennedy said more casually than she felt, and started walking along the rabbit track they'd found again.

Dawn walked right behind her. "Of course you can hurt her, you are hurting her! That's my point! After Tara, none of us ever thought she'd love again, seriously, she was that screwed up. But then she met you."

"She doesn't love me."

"Maybe, maybe not, I don't really know," Dawn admitted. "But I do know she's been happier in the last six months than she was for the six months before that. Maybe it's too soon for her to be in love again, I'm not an expert, but you are making her happy. Or you were, until you started acting like a dick!"

Kennedy turned and smacked Dawn on the back of the head.

She shied away from the stinging blow. "Hey, I thought I got a free one?"

"You already used that up and I'm pretty sure neither Willow or Buffy _or Tara_ would like you using that language." Kennedy smirked.

Dawn rolled her eyes again and upped her pace so that she could walk next to Kennedy. "So does this mean we're friends again?"

Kennedy shrugged. "Can't speak for you, but I never stopped."

"Cool, so what are you going to do to get Willow back?"

Kennedy paused again, looking worried. "Do I have to do anything? I mean, do you really think I lost her already?"

Stumped, Dawn gave her a regretful look. "I don't know, maybe?"

"Damn!"


	16. Act 4:3

Thanks for the reviews for the last chapter :) Short bit again, but I'm gonna do my best to post regularly throughout October with the hope of getting it finished for Halloween.

* * *

Willow went around the living room lighting candles with a long thin stove lighter, craning her neck first this way and then t

Willow went around the living room lighting candles with a long thin stove lighter, craning her neck first this way and then that so she could keep Oz in sight as she told her tale.

"I've never seen anything like it before, and I've _been_ a ghost!" she gestured emphatically with the lit pointy thing, her voice rising with excitement as she remembered.

"They weren't ghosts though, were they?" Xander said. He'd moved to the other end of the couch now Willow wasn't sitting there; which was less weird than him and Oz sitting so close to each other in just their underwear. "They were… what were they again?"

"Poltergeists, I think Giles said. Spirit manifestations of the children this old woman had abused while she was looking after them. Buffy and Riley woke them when they were having lots of the sex and stuff." She grinned before asking, "Do you remember Riley?"

"Vaguely." Oz nodded. "Big guy? Psyche TA?"

"That's him." Willow nodded too. "He and Buffy started dating just after you, uh, left…"

She refrained from adding the 'me' to the end of that sentence. After all, it wasn't like he would have forgotten and she'd made her peace with his decision when she'd chosen to stay with Tara, no need to bring it all up again. She carried a couple of apple scented candles from the bookcase to the coffee table and lit them.

"And they woke up really cranky!" she continued.

"And horny… scarily horny." Xander shuddered. "I will never be able to play an innocent game of Spin the Bottle ever again."

Oz smiled. "What did they do?"

"Well, I didn't see Spin the Bottle," Willow said a little enviously. She'd never played the game before, and while the grown up part of her brain told her it was silly and childish and she had missed absolutely nothing, something deeper admitted it would have been nice to at least have been asked, just once in her adolescent years, to play. "But they made everyone act weird. There… there was an _orgasm_ wall apparently," she blushed a little at saying that word in front of Oz. "And… and some people were kissing indiscriminately."

"While others were in a closet cutting their hair off," Xander put in.

"And little ghost boys were getting baptised in baths," Willow remembered with a frown.

"And people were just zombie-ing out and speaking all biblical and stuff," Xander said.

"And when I put my hand on Tara's knee, she, like, totally freaked out and ran off." Willow's frown deepened and she set her gaze on the quiet television.

She'd been talking about Tara a lot tonight. It was only natural, she supposed, after all they were swapping ghost and horror stories of the last few years with Oz, and Tara had been around for most of them. Like the time Jonathan had become Super-Jonathan, and the time they'd brought Buffy back from the dead… they probably should have left that one to last. The sex-ghosts were a good story, but it wasn't going to top Hellions and ripping people from the beyond. Although, Oz hadn't looked very happy when Willow had described the feeling of the snake coming out of her mouth so maybe it was better to finish with something a little lighter.

"And then, when all that fun was over," Xander had taken up the story in her silence. "The house started shaking, like the Earth had chosen just that spot to quake on, and we all had to run for our lives."

Shrugging the discomfort away, it wasn't like Kennedy was around to get upset about it anyway, Willow came back to the couch and perched on the arm next to Xander.

"But once we were outside, we realised Buffy and Riley were still in his bedroom," she said.

"They kept on going right through the earthquake?" Oz grinned. "That takes some stamina."

"I think they thought the earth was just moving for them." Xander grinned back.

"But it wasn't, obviously." Willow tucked her bare feet under Xander's thigh; it was getting chilly. Underwear parties in Cleveland in the Fall were not a good idea, she decided. "So then we went to get Giles, and he was…" she paused so that Oz would get the gravity of what she was about to say. "… Singing!"

Oz cocked his head at her slightly. "In the shower?"

"In public!" Xander said with another shudder. "And there in lies the horror in this story."

"I thought it was the horny ghost children."

Xander shook his head and Willow leaned forward enough to hit his shoulder.

"He's a good singer! And he plays the guitar! You're just jealous."

"You'll have to forgive Will. She has a little crush on AcousticRock-Giles."

"I do not!" She denied hotly, feeling her cheeks growing warm. "I just think it's kinda sexy," she admitted in a quieter voice.

"I always figured," Oz said.

"What?" Willow asked in alarm. "What made you figure that?"

"Well he owned a bunch of classic vinyl for one; he obviously had a good ear for music…"

"Oh, that kind of figuring, that's okay then." Willow breathed a sigh of relief, with no idea why.

Why would it matter if Oz figured out she'd had a totally innocent crush on Buffy's Watcher in high school, that had admittedly resurfaced for about fifteen minutes when she'd watched him performing at the Espresso Pump? Just like why would it matter if Kennedy caught her saying Tara's name more than once per nostalgic conversation? It wouldn't. She was just on edge because things were weird. Oz was back, and that was strange-making all on its own. And Kennedy was being… awkward, or maybe just Kennedy, she hadn't figured that out yet. And where was she anyway?

Willow glanced at her watch. It wasn't really late yet, but she'd been back hours! It would have been nice to get a message, if not a phone call, from her girlfriend to say where she was and an estimate on what time she'd be back. She leaned to the side to pick her beer from the coffee table and took a long desolate swallow. Maybe Xander was onto something with his drowning the pain thing.

"So what happened after that?" Oz prompted her, seeming to sense her mood change.

"Well the usual research thing," she shrugged. "Then we went to see the old lady."

"And what an old lady she was," Xander grimaced. "She seemed like a sweet old Grandma to start with, but I tell you, if any chick should be forced to live in a shoe, it was her."

"Yeah she was horrible," Willow agreed. "But Anya pushed her for the dirt and we got to the bottom of it. And then while me, Tara and Giles called up the ghost kids – which was way spookier than I like my spooks if you're wondering…"

"Ahn and I went back to the house," Xander said. "Then, some much strenuous cutting through thorny vines and yours truly nearly getting drowned in the bath tub later, we eventually made it to Riley's bedroom door."

"And?" Oz was leaning forward, engaged in the tale.

It was a rare sight and Willow loved him like this. He'd always saved this level of interest for the more life-threatening monster discussions or their own heart to heart's and it was nice to have him hanging on her every word again, or in this case Xander's, but same difference.

"Well, knocking got us nowhere but stabbed by more vines, so I opened the door…"

"What were they doing? Had they realised what was going?"

Xander's eyebrows went up at the first question. "Well they were doing what any normal healthy people do when they're behind their bedroom door, and no, no clue whatsoever, as was proven by the five minutes Buffy spent shouting at me about privacy and the rules of knocking."

Oz chuckled and reached forward to grab his beer from the table. "If I'd known the rest of Freshman year was going to be so interesting…"

He left the sentence hanging, casting an almost sheepish glance Willow's way. It was an unusual expression on him, but totally endearing. Strangely, it made her need to mention Tara yet again.

"Interesting in a really bad way. It was so interesting I'm surprised Tara ever even spoke to me again! It freaked her out a lot; she still wasn't really used to our lives back then."

"See, now I think of that night more fondly." Xander smiled, surprising her. "Before the party, Anya was on the verge of realising I was never going to make her happy and she was about to leave me for greener orgasmic pastures. Until, that is, the little hormonal, homicidal phantoms made her forget that stellar idea." Xander's smile turned sad, but it was still a smile. "Maybe I should have just let her go."

"No," Willow said firmly, prodding him with her toes. "You shouldn't have."

"Might have saved her a lot of bother in the long run."

"You would have robbed her of a lot of happiness too," Willow countered.

Xander shrugged and said quietly, "What is it Watchers say, the end justifies the means?"

"Only the bad ones or the ones who think they have no choice."

Xander shrugged again. "Well I wouldn't really know, not being one and all."

He sounded bitter, and Willow didn't know why. Long gone were the days that she could read him like a book. Actually, she still could, but there were passages in that book that took time to translate and a spur of the moment interpretation could lead to her getting it completely wrong.

Oz made a small noise like he was clearing his throat, probably aware of the sudden tension in the candle-lit room.

"That's some ghost story, but now it's my turn." Willow gave him a grateful smile over Xander's head as he changed the subject and he returned it with a warm smile of his own. "So, I was in Istanbul, chasing down a shape-shifter. He was supposed to be primo when it came to fluidity and I was hoping he'd teach me a few things. The address I had was for an abandoned monastery, only when I got there I could tell it wasn't as abandoned as everyone thought…"

* * *

Thanks for reading. Feedback and Concrit welcome. More soon!


	17. Act 4:4

Thanks for the reviews!

* * *

"… For fifty years I have reserved that abandoned monastery in Istanbul every summer." The Count sniffed in disgust and took a sip of his brandy laced blood. "I thought I had a rapport with the townsfolk – I stayed away from their virgins and they stayed away from me – and then they have the audacity to give my whereabouts to some tourist!"

"Did he come with a flaming torch?" Victor asked sympathetically. "My villagers are always sending men with flaming torches to my door. It's like they have forgotten that without me they would never have discovered the joys of electricity. So ungrateful."

"Perhapth they're thtill a little thore about the way you introduced them to electricity," Igor said with a roll of his lopsided eyes.

"It was only a little fire," Victor said hastily. "And I sent you and the lad down to help them put it out."

"I still hear the screams," his friend intoned ominously.

They were gathered in the living room now, spread out comfortably on the various items of antique furniture, as they drank and talked of better times and swapped scary human stories.

"I can't even remember the last time I saw a flaming torch," Zeke was lying on the hearth rug again – he liked hearth rugs – lazily poking at the fire he'd persuaded Owen to light. "Don't get much of that sort of thing where I live now. Don't get much of anything, really." He mused, resting his head on his paws. "It's kinda lonely."

"That's because you choose to live in a log cabin fifty miles from any kind of civilisation. What do you expect?" Ptah asked as he finished another lettuce and tomato sandwich and washed it down with a Vodka and soda water.

"It wasn't my idea, my last shrink suggested it. Better to be away from all temptation for a while, he said. What's your excuse for shutting yourself up in that big, sealed pyramid all the time?"

"Its home; and besides, I'm never lonely. I have the souls of fifty soldiers and twenty handmaidens to keep me company." He sighed ruefully. "I'm actually considering moving to a smaller tomb for some peace and quiet."

"What about you, Olwyn?" Igor asked their host. He'd been rather quiet since they'd all settled down. "Do you get lonely living in this huge, old house by yourself?"

Owen sipped from his brandy, smiling slightly. "No, I like the quiet. And I have friends in town who are most convivial if I wish it. And I have never suffered with the mobs and the lone hunters as you all have."

"That's because you're one of the good guys." Zeke's tail thumped the floor a few times as he grinned.

"Yes, but it has its downsides." The Count smiled. "You can never truly know the meaning of adrenaline until you are chased across rooftops by pitchforks and flaming torches."

There was a murmur of nostalgic agreement from everyone.

"Well, I think after the show we put on tonight, I may know of that pleasure sooner than you think," Owen replied, trying not to worry about it.

* * *

"This must be the driveway," Buffy said as the trees finally gave way to gravel.

"Lets hope so, 'cause I'm getting sick a' trekking through a damn forest in the dark," Faith complained. "So what did Dawn tell you we should expect again?"

"A whole garden variety of monsters apparently. She was a little jumbled to be honest. She said there was definitely a Vampire. I think she said a mutant bat chased her. And Kennedy saw a werewolf, a black panther and a Mummy." Buffy ticked the list off on her fingers, grinning. "Just your typical Halloween bedlam."

"A Mummy?" Faith frowned. "Never met a Mummy before."

"I have." Buffy started to lead the way up the gravel drive. "In fact, she stayed at my house for a while."

Faith glanced at her, figuring there had to be a story there, but it could wait. "So Mummies aren't evil?"

"Depends how you define evil, I guess. She killed people, but if you go into the shades of grey area you could kinda see that she didn't have a choice, or she did, but not one that any sixteen year old should have to make."

"Okay, so do we kill this Mummy or not?" Faith checked. "Considering the whole ambiguity thing?"

"What exactly are you planning on killing it with?"

"I don't know," Faith shrugged. "What kills Mummies?"

"No, I meant do you have any weapons at all on you, because I know I don't."

Faith's shoulders slumped a little, "No. I guess that was pretty stupid, huh?"

"Don't feel bad." Buffy slipped her hand into Faith's. "It's not like we expected to be clearing up after Dawn tonight. We're supposed to be on a date, and I have no problem with you not bringing weapons on our dates."

Faith chuckled, squeezing Buffy's hand a little. "So we're just gonna have to be creative. Make good use of the weapons we were born with. Dawn say anything else helpful?"

"Only that she thought something magick might have happened, and that the house seemed less abandoned when they left to when they arrived." Buffy said, frowning at the lack of help that gave them.

"Well it would do after a party." Faith shrugged. "Uh, how exactly do you fight a bat?"

"I've no idea."

The house came into sight now. A magnificent mansion, bathed in the light of the half moon, it looked spooky and mysterious despite the soft light coming through the first floor windows."

"You ever been here before?" Faith asked, as they both stopped to take it in.

"No, but Xander has and he said it was derelict with a capital D." Buffy breathed.

"Doesn't look so derelict right now. I've lived in derelict. This looks pretty brand-freakin'-new."

"Aside from the fact that it's a big gothic mansion, you're right." Buffy nodded. Taking a deep breath, she added, "Shall we?"

"Yeah, why not."

Faith let go of Buffy's hand, wanting both free just in case something surprised them, but she stayed close as they walked towards the open front door. Her eyes scanned around warily in case anything was lurking in the bushes.

"Hey, wait a sec. Isn't that your truck?"

"I don't have a…" Buffy began before she saw what Faith did. "That's the Slayer Wagon!"

"Slayer Wagon?"

"No ones come up with a better name yet," Buffy said absently as she walked over to it. "We use it for distance patrols. And, FYI, it's your truck too now."

"Guess this is what Dawn and her pals came in," Faith said as she looked through the passenger window into the dark interior.

"But I know why Dawn didn't use it. A: she can't drive yet and B: she was being chased by a bat. But she said she thought everyone was out, so how come _no one_ used it?"

"Maybe they all got chased out and didn't have the chance?"

"Or maybe whoever had the keys didn't make it out?" Buffy looked up at the house again. "She did say she didn't know where Reece was."

"Guess we got some rescuing to do then, too." Faith started for the front door again.

"But Reece?" Buffy groaned as she followed her. "Do we have to?"

* * *

Paddy ran up a narrow stone stairway to the second floor of the house, using hands and feet to balance himself in the complete dark.

"Surely they won't folly me up 'ere?" he muttered, his breathing ragged now from all the running.

Behind him, he heard a lad shout: "It went left! I saw a flash of something go to the left!"

And an annoyed lass shout back: "I know! Damn! Watch out for the steps!"

Muttering angrily to himself all the while, Paddy started dashing between the walls of the upper floor.

* * *

"Did we lose it?" Reece was panting as he tumbled up the top couple of steps after Rona.

It was pitch black up here, so the sweat running into his eyes at least wasn't impairing his vision, but his lips tasted salty and his shirt was stuck to his back. All in all, this wasn't as much fun now as it had started out.

Rona was standing quietly by his side, not even breathing hard yet. It was enviously impressive.

"This way, I think," she said and took off running again.

With one hand on the wall for orientation and the other out in front of him in case of obstacles, Reece followed as fast as he could.

"What do you think it is?"

"Don't know, still new at this." she replied.

"As its running away, is there a chance its not dangerous?" he asked next, wondering if they could give this up and get back on the right side of the walls before the party was completely over.

"It might not be. The big carving knife I saw probably is."

"It has a weapon?" Reece hadn't known that, and while he realised this meant they couldn't give up the chase, he couldn't help wanting to a little more.

He didn't much fancy being attacked by some unidentified creature with an edged weapon. Especially in the dark when it could come at them from any angle. The fact that they were chasing it right now held little comfort thanks to the way the corridor kept twisting and turning. Now and then he could feel a strong draught wash over him and he knew they were running past side passages that they couldn't even see. All the thing had to do was duck into one of them and then stab as they ran past.

"Are you sure it's still in front of us?"

"I hope so," she grunted, adding sharply, "Two, ow, three steps up. Don't really want it behind me."

"Are you worried about the knife," he asked, relieved he wasn't the only one.

"I have a spoon! Of course I'm worried about the knife!"

"A spoon?" Reece grinned despite the burning in his lungs. "That's a novel choice of weapon."

"It's wooden, I thought I was following a Vampire and my options were limited." She sounded pissed off with him, but was still good enough to groan out: "Holy… Sharp right!" before he could copy her by slamming into a solid brick wall.

"Yes, but that's what you attacked me with? A wooden spoon?"

"Think yourself lucky I didn't find a wooden stake instead!"

"I do," he promised her sincerely, "But, a wooden spoon? That's a pretty daft weapon…" and then the floor went out from under him and there was nothing but air beneath his feet. "What the…?"

He felt himself drop and his feet hit solid ground again after a moment of freefall. Shaky, but unharmed, he gripped the wall tight with both hands, having to pause momentarily to get over the unexpected three foot plunge.

Rona was laughing up ahead. "Sorry, four steps down. Forgot to warn you."

"Bet you did," Reece muttered under his breath, deciding it might be beneficial to just follow her in silence for a while, less chance of pissing her off and breaking his ankle that way; besides, he didn't doubt a wooden spoon could do a lot of damage if she wanted it too.

Thanks for reading. More soon.


	18. Act 4:5

Hi guys. Thanks for the reviews.

* * *

They were having a humorous argument over whether to play Pictionary or Charades – Iggy was of course pushing for Twister, as he did every year – when Zeke suddenly lifted his nose to the air.

"Hang on," he said, holding up a paw.

The rest of the gentlemen looked at each other and around them, wondering what he had sensed that they hadn't.

"Is it Paddy?" Owen asked quietly. His absence was still a mystery, and one could only hope he had simply found a dark corner to sleep off the vodka in.

"No, not Paddy," Zeke shook his head. "But someone…"

"We're about to have some more company," the Count smiled, his fangs showing. "How nice."

Zeke sniffed the air again and his tail banged the carpet a few times "Women, I think."

"Well, that'th better than charadeth," Iggy grinned.

"Oh dear," Owen groaned, fearing the worst.

* * *

Up the front steps littered with untidy pumpkins and an unkempt plastic skeleton the two slayers crept, into a foyer brightly lit by a glittering chandelier.

"Pretty," Buffy breathed, glancing up at it.

Faith smiled at her. "Wouldn't wanna be the guy who has to light all those candles though," she whispered back. "And what the hell kind of music were these kids listening to."

Buffy took a second to listen. "Sounds orchestral. Maybe its classical Goth or something."

Her Wonder Woman boots made a sharp tapping noise on the shiny tiles as she walked deeper into the roomy entrance hall. From here she could see into the grand ballroom through its double doors, and the far end of the lavish banquet was within sight.

"Wow."

"Look at all that food!" Faith said appreciatively as she came up behind her. "Think anyone's gonna eat it now?"

Buffy shrugged. "Hard to say. I don't think there are any kids left in here, but I also don't think that's the kind of spread high-schoolers lay out for the average keg party. I think it's better to resist temptation than find ourselves in a Goldilocks situation later."

Faith had wandered into the ballroom, but did no more than look around before joining Buffy again. "Okay, but I don't think there's anyone still here, B."

"There does seem to be a distinct lack of monsters," Buffy agreed, opening a closet door to find nothing more than shoes.

Faith walked down a short corridor, pushing open random doors that all led to empty rooms. In one of them a bottle of champagne, three quarters full, sat in the middle of a desk. Shrugging, she grabbed it and strolled back to the foyer, meeting Buffy at the foot of a grand, central staircase.

"Think Goldilocks'll mind if I drink this?" She held the bottle up.

"From what I can remember, it wasn't Goldilocks who had the problem, it was the bears… or in this case, werewolves and panthers."

Faith took a long swallow from the bottle. "Can't say I've met many werewolves or panthers that drink this stuff anyway… not that I've met any panthers," she added in afterthought. "Maybe all big cats are heavy drinkers, who knows?" she grinned and offered Buffy the bottle.

Buffy took the bottle and inspected it. "Don't know too many high school kids who drink it by choice either, or who can afford it. This stuff doesn't come cheap." On that thought, she took a long swallow herself. "Ooh, Bubbles!" she wrinkled her nose, laughing.

Grinning, Faith moved closer, sliding her arms around Buffy's waist and kissing her.

"What was that for?" Buffy smiled.

"Couldn't help myself. You look cute with bubbles up your nose."

"Do I? In that case…" Buffy took an even bigger swig, and leaned in for another kiss.

As soon as Faith indulged her, Buffy had to pull away again, spluttering. Waving one hand in apology she covered her coughing with her other.

"Sorry, took too much that time," she said embarrassed, her eyes still watering.

"Don't worry about it." Faith used her thumbs to gently wipe away the tiny droplets beneath her eyes. "You're still cute. So do you think we missed the monster bash?"

"Looks like." Buffy sighed, handing back the bottle and curling her arms around Faith's neck. "Oh well, we tried."

"Yep." Faith ran her free hand up and down Buffy's back. "And it's not our fault we didn't know where we were going."

"Plus it was really dark out there," Buffy's fingers slid into one of the tears on the back of Faith's t-shirt.

"Can't save the day every time, I guess." Faith nodded, her nose brushing Buffy's as her fingers fluttered over the ass of her hot pants.

"And we're supposed to be on a date." Buffy said, sounding a little huffy. "Shouldn't even be having to run off to do spontaneous slaying."

"That's a hell of a point," Faith murmured. "But just to make sure we've fully done our duty, we should probably take a look around upstairs."

"Check the bedrooms, you mean?"

"Yeah, well, just the first one we come to." Faith said casually, desperately hoping she wasn't completely mis-reading Buffy's signals here.

Buffy pulled away, her breathing already heavier than usual. "Sounds better than my plan of doing it on the stairs. Come on!"

"You sure?" Faith checked, letting Buffy catch her hand, but not instantly moving when she tugged on it.

"Well, yeah." Buffy looked down, toeing her boot into the second step. "They're all lumpy. You can't tell me that will be comfortable."

Laughing, Faith pulled her back down to the ground floor. "I meant…"

"I know what you meant." Buffy kissed her… and kissed her… boy, did Buffy kiss her. When she finally pulled away, her eyes looked bright green with desire and Faith's legs were – what the hell? – wobbly!

"Okay," she panted. "So we better motor, or its gonna get lumpy real soon."

As they started to run up the stairs a door swung open to the side of them, and there was a loud, "Ahem!"

Both Slayers froze guiltily and then slowly turned their heads to look at one another. Together, they whispered, "Damn!" and started giggling.

* * *

"I really don't think this is the right way," Miranda piped up timidly.

"Well, your way wasn't the right way either, was it?" Alison jibed back. "And neither was Cici's. And we're running out of ways to try."

"Perhaps we should just stay here until its light?" Cici suggested.

All three of them looked around at the dark, hostile, thistly, partially boggy patch and shook their heads.

"Or not," Cici answered herself.

"Find me a nice open field where I can stretch out and look at the stars, I'll stay put, but not here." Alison said.

"I believe the open fields were somewhere over that way." Cici pointed in, well, a direction; it probably wasn't the right one.

"Besides it's too cold to not keep moving." Miranda added. "And it's too damp here to build a fire."

"And none of us know how to build a fire," Cici chuckled despite their depressing situation.

"I bet I could build a fire," Alison replied, but when the other two looked at her expectantly, she added quickly, "If it wasn't so damp."

"Okay, so which direction now?" Miranda asked.

"Rock, paper, scissors?" Cici suggested.

"How does that pick a direction?" Alison asked.

"I don't know," Cici groaned. "I'm lost, I'm cold and I'm so tired I'm seeing unicorns."

"What?" Miranda and Alison asked in unison.

"Over there" She pointed wearily deeper into the thick trees. "The moon reflecting on the mist looks like a unicorn." She explained through a yawn.

Miranda's eyes bulged as they focused. "That's not moonlight!"

Alison's eyes were equally filled with wonder. "That's a frickin' unicorn!"

"You're shitting me?" Cici blurted out loudly and then covered her mouth with a grimace. "Oops. Excuse my language, but… but…"

Alison and Miranda laughed at her, both of them felt a little giddy all of a sudden. Certainly the gloomy, irritable mood that had overtaken them in the past hour had gone.

The creature had noticed them now, or had just finally deigned to look their way. It stood majestically, whiter than the mist that wreathed around its hocks, and stared them down.

"It's beautiful," Cici breathed.

"Its looks like its glowing," Alison murmured in agreement.

"Look at the size of its horn!" Miranda whispered, and then blushed.

Alison and Cici both nudged her, grinning.

* * *

"May I ask what you are doing in my home?" asked a voice full of dignified authority.

Slowly the Slayers turned around to see a motley collection of… well, people might be pushing it, in the foyer below them.

"We thought the place was abandoned," Buffy said.

"We heard there was a party," Faith said at the same time.

"But we saw lights," Buffy continued.

"So is there a party?" Faith also continued.

The man who had addressed them was clearly dressed up as a wizard, in flowing robe and a big pointy hat. Although he looked too old to be playing dress-up, he also looked vaguely familiar.

He sighed now. "As you can see, the place is clearly not abandoned, and the party is for private guests only."

"Oh, sorry." Buffy said.

"Our bad," Faith shrugged.

They walked down the few steps they'd made it up together, neither sure what to make of the group that stood in front of them. It was clear they weren't all human, but none of them seemed threatening; in manner if not in looks.

"It doesn't have to be that private," said a short, bald, lumpy man to the side of the wizard.

The wizard groaned, pulling off his hat as he turned to him, "Iggy, please. Do you not think tonight has been fun enough?"

"Shop-keeper?" Faith suddenly blurted.

"Excuse me?" He hurriedly pulled his hat back on, tugging the brim low over his eyes.

"You work in that shop." Faith pointed in the general direction of Boudenver. "You gave me the soap, and the towel."

"I… I…"

Buffy crossed her arms as he spluttered. "Now isn't that interesting."

"Slayer?" Deep, Slavic tones rolled from a figure at the back of the small crowd.

Recognising that voice with a sinking heart, Buffy's eyes picked him out easily. "Dracula?"

"Well isn't this a nice surprise," he purred, coming to the fore to stand next to the Wizard.

"Speak for yourself," she said dryly, really wishing she had a stake with her now.

"Wait… Dracula?" Faith was staring at him in a kind of awe.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Yes, this is Count Dracula. Don't look so impressed, you'll only be embarrassed by it later."

"Dracula," Faith said again, smiling and clearly not listening to a word. "But wait…" she said again, and now she turned to Buffy. "… you two know each other?"

"Oh yes, we are old friends."

"No, we're not," Buffy said firmly. "He bit me, I staked him, end of story."

"Oh come now, there was much more between us than that." the Count smiled around his fangs.

"There was?" Faith turned to Buffy with an eyebrow raised.

"Not that kind of more," Buffy said hurriedly, before shooting Dracula a harsh look. "So it was you who tried to eat my little sister in the woods?"

The Count began to laugh, but curbed it when Owen turned to him. "We were just playing a game."

"Yeah, well I remember your games. They suck."

There was a growly laugh, "She's got you there, Vlad."

Buffy focused on the speaker. "And I take it you're the werewolf who chased everyone out of the house."

He looked sheepishly at the floor, pushing his big hairy paws into his pockets, muttering, "'M not a werewolf."

"Really, because those big teeth you have grandma say different."

"I'm an anthropomorphic representation," he mumbled.

"A what now?" Buffy looked at Faith to see if she knew what that meant, but the other Slayer was still sizing up the famous Vampire.

"He crossed a witch and she cursed him," the Mummy explained for him. "What, about four hundred years ago now?"

The wolf-headed being nodded. "About that."

"How did you cross her?" Buffy asked, "Must have been something pretty bad."

"I don't remember." When Buffy looked at him in disbelief, he added, "What do you want from me? I was a wolf, we don't go in much for the remembering past mis-deeds thing. I probably ate her pig or something. All I know is one minute I was hunting for my dinner and the next I was really embarrassed because I wasn't wearing pants!"

"Okay," Buffy said, still eying him warily. "So what's your story?" she asked the Mummy man.

He was about to answer amiably enough, when a little man at the back piped up, "Just who do you think you are, young lady? Coming in here and demanding to know all about us when you have yet to introduce yourself?"

Buffy stiffened her pose, "I'm not the one with the furry face or the…"

Faith cut her off. "He has a point, B. I'm Faith." She smiled, offering her hand to Dracula.

"I know," he smiled, and kissed the back of it.

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Ath we're all getting acquainted, why don't we go back through to the parlour," suggested the lumpy man.

Owen sighed. His cover was blown now anyway, being cordial was probably the only way to prevent this appalling situation from becoming worse. He stepped aside and gestured to the door.

"You can not be serious, Olwyn?" The rude little man objected. "I understand the fiasco earlier could not be avoided, but to invite these women to join us now is simply preposterous!"

A gentle nudge to his back made him stagger forward and he turned qestioningly.

"Perhaps it would not be so bad." The whisper was deeper than a baritone and instinctively drew Buffy's eyes over and… up!

It even made Faith finally tear her eyes away from Dracula, and they widened as she did so. "Dude!"

The big man started biting on a big square thumbnail, his eyes flicking shyly between Buffy and the floor.

"Why would…?" the little man began, but then recognising something in his friend's expression he glanced back long enough to give Buffy a once over before getting a pained look on his face. "Really?"

The big man didn't have to answer, his eyes said it all.

"Very well." The little man walked back into the living room with a defeated air.

"What just happened?" Buffy asked nervously, eyes shifting from being to being for clues.

The troll sized man gave a great, gurgling giggle – more like a bath draining than a mountain spring – and ran after his friend. The floor shook slightly as he went.

"That was surreal," said the Mummy man.

"Yeth, I can count on one hand the amount of timeth I've theen him like that," said lumpy. "Thix times!"

"Huh?" Buffy asked, still feeling like she'd missed something.

He held up his hand to show her and she took a step back, creeped out. No one should have that many fingers!

"Doth that mean you don't want to thake handth?" he grinned.

"Yes!" she blurted, and then tried to remember her manners. "I mean, there's no need to be so formal. You can just tell me your name… from over there."

"Iggy." He stood aside and gestured gentlemanly for her to go into the room first.

Buffy hesitated, but Faith walked through without a second thought. So with her eyebrows up near her hairline, warily watching as many of them as she could, she followed.

The living room was beautiful in the way she imagined an English Manor house might have been centuries ago. The only modern appliance that she could see was a radio, and she was using the word modern in a very broad sense. Other than that, everything was _old_, but beautifully restored. The shopkeeper must have spent half his life going to flea-markets and auctions, and the other half fixing and touching up his finds.

"I'm Ptah."

She gingerly shook the hand that was offered to her. The bandages felt dry and warm, and a little crinkly. He smelled of smoke and dust and morgues, but seemed friendly enough.

"You're a Mummy?"

His eyes shone in his yellowed face and he smiled brightly. "Yes! You can tell?"

She just looked at him, her expression saying, 'Duh!'

"I suppose to the trained eye I'm a little obvious," he admitted with embarrassment. "So… you're a Vampire Slayer. How are you finding it?"

"I, ah…" Buffy perched on the edge of a long red velvet cushioned stool. "Okay, I guess. I've been doing it a while now."

"I knew one once. Well, I suppose you could say I still know her. Stunning girl. She's just as brave and vivacious now as she was when she was alive."

"How can you _still _know her?"

"Oh, she was locked inside my pyramid when I was entombed. I was a Pharaoh; it was law that all of my greatest warriors should join me in the afterlife. And I had no greater warrior than Ankhet," he said wistfully.

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "So you let her have to die, just because you did?"

"Of course, that was her duty…" Ptah finally caught on to how his reminiscing might sound to a Slayer's ears. "But it was all her idea!" he added quickly. "No one forced her to drink the Hemlock! And we still laugh about those days now! And… I think Victor's calling… excuse me!"

Buffy watched him stride over to the other side of the room, where the little rude man had definitely not been calling him, but looked eager for the company all the same; wondering how she'd ended up at this little soiree of the living dead.

She looked for Faith, hoping to find she was ready to excuse herself too, but no such luck.

"So you can really turn into a bat?" Faith asked as she flopped down on to the chaise lounge.

"I can." The Count followed her down, sitting close. "I would demonstrate, but Olwyn gets upset with the acidic droppings on his antique furniture."

Faith grinned. "Maybe later then?"

"Of course." He picked his glass of blood from the table and took a sip. Noticing Faith watch him, he asked, "Are you thirsty?"

"Yeah, actually." She'd put the bottle of Champagne down at some point. She couldn't remember where… or when… or why.

"Do you like blood?"

"Can't say as I've ever tried it."

"But you are open to new experiences, am I correct?" he asked.

"Yeah."

He offered her his glass and she wrinkled her nose. Not from disgust, just from uncertainty.

"It's otter, very good," he said in encouragement.

"Thanks, but I'm pretty choosy about which bodily fluids I let in my mouth," she politely declined, trying to ignore the voice at the back of her mind calling her a pussy.

"It has brandy in it," he said in a last ditch attempt.

"Really?" she looked a little more convinced, but it faded fast. "Any chance I could just have the brandy without the blood?"

"Of course," he gave in. Looking about he saw Zeke with the Brandy bottle and clicked his fingers above his head for it.

Zeke just cuffed him on the back of the head with his paw as he walked past.

"Would you like a glass of Brandy?" he asked Buffy.

"Uh," she looked up in surprise. "I think the, uh, big… man?" she made it sound like a question and he nodded. "Is getting me a glass of champagne actually."

"Oh." Zeke looked down at the bottle and the empty glass he was carrying, kicking himself for taking too long to ask.

"But thanks." Buffy smiled.

"No problem." Zeke grinned. "Can I get you something to eat then?"

"I'm not really hungry right now," she began and saw his face fall. "But maybe in a minute."

"Okay." His grin came back. "So, uh…" as he tried to think of something to say that she would find interesting, he made to sit down next to her on the big red stool, but before he could he was almost knocked off his feet as her other admirer barged him out of the way.

"Oh," Buffy uttered as the big man sat down next to her, nearly toppling her off the side, and handed her a tall glass of champagne. "Thank you."

Zeke gave a low growl and settled for sitting on his haunches close to her feet.

Buffy looked from one to the other, smiling nervously. "This is, uh, very cosy."

Haughtily, Dracula stalked towards Zeke and snatched both the Brandy and the glass from him; giving him an extremely frosty look that the wolf-man ignored. As he moved back to the chaise lounge he poured a large measure into the glass and handed it to Faith as he sat down.

"Thanks." Grinning, she took a big gulp from the glass.

Her nose wrinkled at the taste, she wasn't used to the finer alcoholic varieties; beer had generally been all she could afford before, and maybe a bottle of Jack Daniels on birthdays and Christmas… if she could sneak it without her mom realising. Which, actually, had been pretty easy on birthdays and Christmas' on account of her Mom having already drunk a few bottles of the stuff to get in the spirit so to speak. She sure as hell got into the spirit alright, any spirit she could lay her hands on…

Why in hell was she suddenly thinking about her Mom? She knew better than that. Some issues were better left dead and buried, just like the bitch herself. She shook her head, willing the thoughts away again. Obviously she really had been out of therapy too long. Or this Brandy was stronger than she expected.

She looked over to Buffy, expecting it to comfort her, but the blonde was being drooled on by Wolf-man and Monster-man – literally in the wolf's case – and seemed to be enjoying every second of it. Not so much with the comforting.

"So, Faith, tell me about yourself."

She turned to smile at Dracula – still a little overwhelmed that she was meeting the vamp himself. "What do you wanna know?"

"Everything," he said simply, but with so much feeling in his low voice and dark eyes that she found herself willing.

"Well I grew up in Boston with my Mom. My dad split when I was, I don't know, little. Went out for a beer one evening and never came back, ya know? I guess you could say that left me a little insecure with men..."

"So, uh…" Buffy looked up at the man next to her. It felt like he was towering over her, even though he was sitting on the same stool. Starting a conversation would be the polite thing to do, especially as he'd been nice enough to get her a drink. "Uh…"

His one attractive feature was his eyes. They were nice, adding warmth to his otherwise sombre face; although one was a different shade of brown to the other, she noticed.

"Yes?" he asked, his voice a soft rumble.

He couldn't be human. Nothing with hands that big, with a forehead that high, with that many stitches holding his brain in, could be human. She tried to unthink that last part. Maybe they were cosmetic, like Faith's stitches around her throat, but just really _really _real-looking. And the bolts in his neck too?

"So, uh…" she began again. "What are you?" she winced, oh that was polite. "I mean, what are you dressed as? What's your costume?"

"I am a monster." He ducked his head to look at his dull black size 16 shoes.

"Well, it looks very authentic." She smiled awkwardly. "That's because it is, right? Like, you're the real monsterific deal?"

He nodded. "I am sorry."

"Why sorry? None of us can help the way we're made…" she winced again. "Not made, just, uh, created." That didn't sound any better so she forged ahead with another smile. "So are you, like, _the_ Frankenstein?"

"No."

"Oh." She felt a little disappointed. "Only if you were it would have been pretty cool." She saw his face drop, and on a face like his, that was saying something. "Not that meeting you isn't cool, you seem nice; but from the Slayer-y point of view, meeting actual Frankenstein would be as awesome as the time I met…" she trailed off, glaring at Dracula

There had been nothing awesome about meeting him! He was just another loser vampire who happened to have a few fancy party tricks up his long lacy sleeves. God, he was such a poser! And now he had his poser-y, tricky hands all over her girlfriend! Well, not literally maybe, but Buffy could tell that's what he was shooting for. And Faith was just eating it all up. Giving him the old doe eyes… since when did Faith even have doe eyes? Well, she had them, she had beautiful eyes, but she never used them like this… correction: she'd never used them like this _on her!_

"Father!"

The sudden shout, well, not a shout, just her new friend speaking normally, made Buffy sit up and pay attention again. She looked at him questioningly and then caught movement on the other side of the room, where the rest of the guests had congregated.

The small rude man with the slicked back hair was making his way over. Buffy wrinkled her nose at him and then turned her expression downwards to see what was making the pressure on her feet.

"Comfy are we?" she asked.

"Thought I'd keep your toes warm." Zeke grinned, wriggling a little.

He was lying across her boots on his back. From this angle he mostly looked like a big shaggy dog with his front legs sticking straight up and back legs splayed like a frog's. All she could think was '_Thank God he's wearing pants'_.

"They weren't cold," she said firmly.

"Oh well," he didn't seem bothered. "Seeing as I'm here, any chance of a tummy rub?"

She saw Faith look over, so obviously she wasn't ignoring her completely, just acting like it.

Buffy gave Zeke a big, encouraging smile as she said too quietly for Faith to hear, "No chance at all."

Faith bounced to her knees on the chaise lounge so that she was facing Dracula; actually, she was practically straddling him!

"Guess what I am?" she pointed both thumbs at herself.

"A Slayer?" he asked, amused.

"Nope." Grinning flirtatiously, she tilted her head far to one side and ran a finger down her neck. "Check out my stitches."

"You are a zombie?"

"Got it in two. Which is quicker than most."

"Why would there be any doubt?" he asked. "it is extremely authentic."

"Thanks dude." She smiled at him and sat back again. "Nice to have my effort recognised, ya know."

Buffy pressed her lips firmly together and swooped down to lay her hand over Zeke's cotton shirt about where his tummy would be. Surprised, he stretched out his front legs and wiggled his back under her hesitant touch, his grin wider than ever.

"This isn't sexual, is it?" she hissed down to him, suddenly worried what his friends might think.

"It's better than sex," he promised her, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

"Oh. Ew?"

A shadow fell over Zeke, and Buffy, so grateful for the distraction, sat up to see the small man standing in front of her.

"What is the problem?" he asked in a clipped European accent.

'_No problem,'_ she thought, _'other than a horny wolf-man crushing my toes and a monster who gets self-conscious if I breathe wrong. Oh and a girlfriend who would rather… '_

"Buffy would like to meet you," the monster-man said, his deep voice like faraway thunder.

"I would?" she asked, wiping her hand repeatedly on her cape.

"You know who I am?" The man asked, a little bit of pride creeping into his voice, but then he sounded suspicious as he asked, "How?"

"Um?" Buffy looked to her big new friend for inspiration.

He sighed, rolled his mis-matched eyes and sounded like a frustrated teenager as he said, "The book, Dad. Remember?"

"Don't call me Dad. It's uncouth."

"I'm lost," Buffy said.

Zeke gave a growly sigh and waved one of his paws in the air as he made introductions. "Buffy, this is Victor Frankenstein. Vic, this is Buffy, the Slayer."

"So I've heard." Victor reluctantly offered to shake hands.

Buffy accepted just as reluctantly. "You're Frankenstein?"

"That is correct." When she let go – as quickly as possible – he subconsciously wiped _his_ hand on his too-big jacket.

She frowned. "I thought you'd be bigger."

"Everyone does," he lamented.

"And, no offence, but more… monster-y…" Realisation struck and she turned excitedly to the big man sat next to her. "You are Frankenstein!"

"No," he intoned slowly. "Frankenstein is my father. I'm Fred."

"Fred Frankenstein?" Buffy started giggling.

* * *

"Do you want me to help you over?" Andrew offered his hand from the other side of the fallen tree.

Naomi smiled at him gratefully, but shook her head. Having seen how he'd fared climbing over the huge rotting trunk of the American chestnut, she couldn't help feeling she would do better on her own.

They'd been following a narrow track through the woods for some time already when they'd met this obstacle. The briars on either side were too dense to push through, leaving up and over as the only sensible course of action. Funny really, considering it was liable to break her neck.

"It's easier if you use that branch like a step first," Andrew said helpfully. "And try to avoid the moss along the top if you can."

"Is that what tripped you up?" Naomi shone her penlight around, assessing his directions for practicality.

"No, that was what _slipped_ me up!" Andrew complained, rubbing his elbow again for emphasis. "It was the creepers all over it that tripped me up."

"Creepers?" Naomi looked for them. "Ah, that's just the thing."

"Do you always carry a flashlight in your handbag?"

"A good watcher must always be prepared," she murmured by rote. "Okay, I think I have it. Could you hold this a moment?" Awkwardly she passed the penlight across to him and directed the beam where she wanted it. "That's it, keep it steady just there."

Grabbing a hold of the long smooth creepers – already checked for flickering tongues and scales so no need to think of snakes – Naomi heaved herself upwards.

"So how come you're a Watcher and not a Slayer," Andrew asked conversationally.

"Excuse me?" Naomi's pump became caught in some thorny tendrils and she had to shake her foot, feeling them bite in further before she could free herself. At least she hadn't worn heels.

"Well, I thought girls were Slayers and guys were Watchers, but you're a girl and a Watcher," Andrew mused thoughtfully; he was probably tapping his chin in that rather endearing faux-intellectual way he had. "What's up with that?"

"Well, Slayers are mystical beings. They have a… a type of magick flowing through them which makes them more than human."

"I already know all that."

"Well," Naomi felt she really should be paying more attention to what she was doing instead of trying to carry on a conversation, but still… "I don't have that. I'm human. I don't have the mystical powers that enhance my body, spirit and mind to such an extent that I can viably fight the forces of darkness on a night to night basis."

As if to prove her point, as she made it to the top of the fallen tree trunk, her foot slipped on the wet moss Andrew had warned her about. She gave a little squeal as she fell forwards, arms flailing. Andrew ran the few steps forward to catch her and she nearly flattened him.

"Are you okay?" he asked from beneath her.

"Yes, yes thank you." Embarrassed, she swiftly bolted back to her feet and brushed her knees off. "So as I was saying, er… um…"

She laughed self-consciously and then mentally told herself to cut it out. What was she worried about losing poise in front of Andrew for? Andrew had fallen off of the blasted tree three times, and only the last of those had been in the right direction.

"We should probably keep going." She took the penlight back from him. "So, yes, as I do want to fight the forces of darkness one day, hopefully soon." She sighed. "And as I don't have the mystical Slayer abilities, I choose to be a Watcher. Or rather I was chosen to be a Watcher."

"I thought only Slayers got chosen?"

"No, Watchers do too, just not in the same way. Slayers all come from the same source, that of the first Chosen one. They can be traced back through lineage to the first girl ever endowed with the spirit of the demon. Of course, that was millennia ago now, which is why there are so many potential candidates these days, and why so many Slayers were activated in May. Naturally no one would be able to trace their own ancestry back that far, but I believe there was a… a family tree of sorts in the Council library in London that had the name of every Slayer ever called… Oh dear."

"What's wrong?" As Andrew stepped level with her, she had to put an arm out to stop him. "Oh dear," he echoed.

The track ended in a black abyss.

"Any ideas?" she asked him as she shone the light downwards.

It didn't help much. Her torch was powerful, but small – it had to be to fit in her handbag – the beam was strong, but too concentrated to reveal anything more than rocks roughly twenty feet below them.

"I think I can hear water," Andrew said. "Fast water."

Naomi nodded. "Do you know of any fast running rivers near the camp?"

"No. Oh wait, um, sort of, uh, maybe…" Andrew moved his hand around as he imagined a map was in front of him.

Naomi waited patiently, now trying to pick out any sign of land directly in front of them to see how wide the gorge was.

"You know that waterfall Craig likes…" Andrew began.

"It's not really a waterfall," Naomi interrupted offhandedly.

"Yeah, well, Craig likes it and when we were down there the other day we decided to follow the stream as far as the lake road. There's a little bridge, and its gets faster on the other side. Could this be it?"

"If this is the same stream, all we have to do is follow it," she said hopefully.

He nodded excitedly, but then joined her in looking at the thick bushes on either side of them and his excitement dropped. "I'm getting déjà vu!"

She looked at him, but for once he didn't expand on his thoughts.

"Okay," she decided. "We need to get down there and walk along the edge where it's not so bushy."

"How? I don't mind falling off a log, but rocks are hard."

"We'll be okay," she promised, hoping her wince when she shone the light down again went unnoticed. "Its not a straight drop and it's probably more like fifteen feet than twenty."

Beside her Andrew made a groaning noise.

"We'll be fine," she repeated. Opening her handbag she shone the penlight inside as she instructed, "Ten yards back we passed a tree with big leafy branches, do you remember?"

"The one that tickled our faces?"

"That's the one. Go and break off as many of the branches as you can. They're only thin so it shouldn't be hard."

"How'm I supposed to see which one it is in the dark?"

She handed over the light, she'd already found what she was looking for in her bag, and the light of the half moon would allow her to do the rest.

The snapping of branches could be heard, along with Andrew occasionally saying "Ow!" – Which made her smile – as she unwound a length from her ball of string and wrapped it twice around the sturdiest tree trunk near the edge of the drop. Truthfully, the trunk wasn't as fat as she would have liked but it would do.

Andrew came back before she'd finished tying the knot; carrying so many of the branches she couldn't see his face through the big leaves.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Giving us something to hang on to on the way down," she explained. "Stand right next to me and then just drop the branches straight down. Don't throw them! Just drop them."

He did so and they heard them land with a fluttery noise.

"Could you get some more?" she asked, just to be on the safe side.

He did so and she finished making sure her knot was secure by tugging on the rope as hard as she could.

When Andrew came back, he repeated the dropping process and then asked, "Do you think we need even more?"

"Honestly, I'd be happier with a mattress down there, but if we're gonna mess about all night we might as well just walk back the way we came and hope we don't get even more lost."

"Okay. Are you sure that's going to hold us?" he asked, nodding at the string in her hands.

"Its light-weight Vectran," she explained, instead of actually answering his question. "With an enhanced design thanks to the Council technicians."

"Okay," he said, so trusting it made her feel guilty, even though she was planning on taking the same plunge as him.

"We probably shouldn't use it at the same time though," she admitted. "We don't want to over-stress it. I'll go…"

He'd been looking over the side again – he still had the torch – but interrupted her now. "No I'll go first. Just in case it's not safe."

"You don't have to do that."

"Yes I do. You're a Watcher." He took the ball of string from her. "You have more to contribute to the world than I do."

She put her hand on his arm. "You shouldn't think like that! The world would lose just as great an asset if you died as if I did."

"I just meant the world wouldn't end if I was laid up in bed with a broken leg. Sure the house might get dusty and no one would eat a decent meal, but you're a Watcher… wait, are you saying I might die!"

"No, no," Naomi chuckled. "At least, it's unlikely. Besides, Watcher or not, I actually contribute less to the household than you do right now."

"Okay, well here goes… Uh, how does here go exactly?"

"Hold the ball in your weaker hand and play it out with your stronger hand and just walk backwards slowly." She followed him to the edge and then took hold of the taught string with both hands, just as an extra measure. "Don't look down."

He faltered for a few seconds once his feet were against the ledge and he was basically leaning back over nothing but thin air, but after a deep breath, he gradually started walking backwards down the almost vertical slope.

"So tell me what it's like being a girl-Watcher?" Andrew asked.

Naomi was keeping the beam from the penlight on his hands so she couldn't see his expression, but he sounded like he was talking through clenched teeth.

"I'm afraid I wouldn't know," she replied, and her teeth were clenching a little too, although not from fear. "I could tell you what its like to be a girl-Watcher-in-training if you like?"

"How come Reece is a real Watcher but you're still a trainee?"

"Who knows? Uncle Rubear has yet to give me a satisfactory answer to that question."

"Well, I don't think it's fair. I think you'd make a much better Watcher than Reece."

"Thank you." Naomi smiled. Although she didn't doubt Reece's abilities herself, it was always nice to be compared to him and found in favour.

"Maybe Mr Giles just doesn't want you getting hurt?" Andrew's voice sounded fainter now, mixing with the rush of the water below.

"I'm already on active duty. It's only the responsibility of a Slayer I've not been granted."

She had to admit it rankled her badly. Especially when Reece had no qualms about parading Rona around in front of her. She was every bit as qualified as he was, and there was the added reassurance that she wouldn't be trying to get into their knickers, but no; and whenever she asked about it, she was told: 'All in good time, my dear.'

The thin rope went slack in her hands at the same time as Andrew called up, "I'm down!"

"Are you okay?"

"My legs are a bit shaky. And I have rope burn on my hands. And I think there's a beetle in my ear…"

Naomi grinned as she put the penlight back in her handbag and hooked it over one of her arms. "But you're basically okay?"

"Uh huh. It was easier than I thought it would be."

"I hope you're right." Naomi turned herself around, got a good two handed grip on the rope and braced her feet. "So are you really fed up at the camp, then?"

"No. What makes you say that?"

"Only, twice tonight you've said how menial you feel your role is." Naomi went hand over hand down the rope skilfully. It wasn't that different to the practice wall at the Academy if you didn't let yourself think about the jaggedy rocks at the bottom. "I thought perhaps you were becoming disillusioned with working for the Watcher's Council."

"I don't work for the Watcher's Council. I'm just Mr Giles'… _maid!_"

Naomi chuckled. "On the contrary, in the broadest sense, Mr Giles is the Council. That makes you the Watcher's Council maid at least."

"I guess."

"Still not exciting enough?"

Her feet touched rock bottom and she breathed a sigh of relief that it was over as she fished in her bag for the penlight again.

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful," Andrew hurried to explain. "I'm happy to serve the Council of Watchers and the Slayers of the Vampyres in any capacity I can, and, also, you know, having a place to live is nice too seeing as my bedroom at home was kinda swallowed up by the Hellmouth along with the rest of my house."

"But?" Naomi asked, wondering what to do about her rope. It was too expensive to leave behind, but then if she climbed up to untie it from the tree, it would have made the tying it up and climbing down in the first place a pretty pointless exercise.

"Is cooking and cleaning all I'm ever going to be allowed to do?" Andrew griped plaintively.

"You do more than that now. You help Mr Harris."

"Yeah, I fetch and carry and sometimes he lets me hammer stuff, but that's it. He even lets Faith do more than me, and she only just started helping him!"

Naomi decided to leave the rope for now and come back for it in daylight; it wasn't as if it was going anywhere in the meantime. The rocks were uneven and not that easy to walk on, but the moon had good access into the narrow stream valley which meant at least they could see where to step for the best footing.

"Well, what about looking after Goorzar?"

"That just gets me yelled at. Even when it's Kennedy's fault."

"Well, Craig says you can summon demons…" Naomi tried.

"That gets me even more yelled at!"

"Yes, I suppose it would. Uh, what about research? You could do research."

"I do do research. Nobody takes any notice of it. I tried explaining to Mr Giles about the Sekopiluthian Hedray's and he said 'Bless you'. What kind of answer is that to knowledge that could potentially save this town from total annihilation!"

Naomi laughed. "Well, I'm sure things will get better."

"Oh really?" Andrew snarked, getting in his groove now. "How many Watchers do you know that started out as… as houseboys?"

"Well, none, but you have your foot in the door; that's a start at least. Is that what you'd like then? To be a Watcher?"

Andrew shrugged. "I'd rather be a Scooby. You know, part of the special forces, the elite evil attack squad, getting to go where the real actions is… but they're even harder to get into than the Watchers, so…" he shrugged again.

'_Blimey,' _Naomi thought as they walked the rocky ledge in mopey silence. _'He really believes in it, all of it. He's more intense than half the cadets at the Academy ever were. No wonder he's so frustrated with his lot here. I know I am and I at least have the title and the training.'_

A rather disturbing thought occurred to her. "What you said earlier, about being a super villain? You were joking, yes?"

"Yeah," he said despondently. "I was never that good at it. I mean, I tried hard, but Warren always took over anyway and he never let us try out our own dastardly plans. World domination had to be all about him, you know? And then when the jetpack hits the roof, who ends up in the big house? All I'm saying. Meh-hi-ko was nice though."

"Ohh-kay," Naomi said slowly. "I'm starting to wish I hadn't asked now."

"Oh, its okay, those days are behind me," Andrew promised quickly. "I'm a trainee-superhero now, but one like Batman not Superman, because I don't have any… any inherent super abilities. Hey, we're the same," he realised with a smile.

"Goody," she murmured, wondering how much boredom and frustration it might take for an under-appreciated trainee-superhero to slip back into his super villainy ways. "Does Craig know about your, er, past?"

"Um…" Andrew hesitated.

And then he was saved from answering by the giant leaf-shattering crash from above, the terrifying yelling and, finally, the huge splash as the leaf-shattering yeller hit the water at speed.

The spray of cold water hitting her stirred Naomi from her initial fright-induced paralysis and she stepped back, reaching out to pull Andrew back with her and nearly tripping on the uneven surface they were using as a path.

Their eyes went wide as a figure rose from the watery not-that-deeps, coughing and spluttering as water ran off of it.

"What is it?" Andrew whispered fearfully.

"I don't know," Naomi whispered back. "But I think we should run before it spots us."

In obvious agreement, they didn't waste any more time on discussing their plan. Side by side they ran across the rocks in the direction they hoped was home. Andrew was faster, but Naomi was more sure-footed and together they helped each other along as swiftly as possible.

The figure finished choking up the river water and wiping it from his eyes.

"Man I'm freezing!" he complained out loud as he looked around. He was surprised to find himself all alone. "Uh, hello?"

He did a three-sixty in the river in case he'd landed facing the wrong way or something, but there was definitely no one there but him. Soggily he trudged to the edge and clambered out onto the rocks.

"Well, that was a waste of dry clothes and daredevil skills. Coulda sworn I heard their voices down here."

Shivering, Craig started following the stream uphill; hoping he was going the right way this time.

_Thanks for reading. Reviews/feedback/etc always welcome. More tomorrow._


	19. Act 4:6

Hi guys. Told you there'd be more today ;). Feedback is appreciated so let me know what you think.

* * *

At some point, Buffy had allowed herself to relax. Maybe it was seeing Faith enjoying herself that reminded her tonight was about fun, or maybe it was seeing Faith enjoying herself while completely ignoring _her_ that convinced Buffy to show two could play that game.

Either way, when Fredstood up and offered her his arm she reached up politely to take it and let him lead her into the ballroom. Zeke was walking close enough to her other side that his tail tickled the backs of her thighs as he wagged it. He walked on two legs as comfortably as he walked on four; maybe his knees were double-jointed or something.

"Foods over here," he pointed a paw at the long, food-laden, hard to miss table.

She gave him a small smile. "Thanks."

"Would you like me to get you a plate?" he asked hopefully, ignoring the thunderous look the monster was giving him.

"Uh, thanks, but I can manage myself." She probably shouldn't be touching this food at all, but if she was going to, the more hairless her plate the better.

She let go of Fred's arm and found it hard to make her shoulder work properly at first; it had gone stiff with the unaccustomed height. She gave it a surreptitious rub as she walked to the table, flanked by her new best friends.

All of this attention was certainly flattering, it was just a pity it wasn't coming from the one person she actually wanted the attention from tonight. Sighing softly, she watched Faith, further up and on the other side of the table, laughing wholeheartedly at some joke Dracula and the many-fingered lumpy man was telling her as she piled a plate high with goodies.

Sighing again wistfully as she remembered how only an hour ago she had made Faith laugh like that, she nearly dropped her paper plate when Fred dumped a ladle full of three-bean salad onto it from one side and Zeke dropped a whole roasted wood pigeon onto it from the other.

"Hey!" She had to act quick to stop the plate from bending under the weight and spilling everything back onto the table. Once that was achieved, she cast wary glances at her admirers. "Okay, a little less chivalry all round might be nice."

"Sorry," Fred apologised, dropping the ladle and taking a half-step back. Not completely out of her personal space, but obviously trying. "You were holding your plate out. I thought you were waiting to be served."

"Your _Dad_ has you well trained, huh?"

He shook his head. "Iggy taught me. When I was… new. He always said with my looks and personal history I was a natural candidate for Igor-ing and he wanted me to have a good head start."

Buffy licked some salad dressing from her thumb. "Igor-ing?"

"Its slang for…" he hesitated, but it seemed he was prepared to tell her anything. "… for Mad Science Technician."

Buffy's eyebrows went up and slowly lowered again. "Okay."

Hot breath on the back of her neck made her turn around. Zeke was laughing, mouth wide and showing lots of sharp teeth. He hadn't stepped back at all and didn't look in the least apologetic.

"Yes?" she asked pointedly.

"Try the pigeon," he said. "It's good."

"I've never tried pigeon," she admitted, giving it a closer look. "I didn't even know you could eat pigeon."

It looked, well it looked like a small plucked chicken, and it smelled good.

"Try it," he urged. "And there's rabbit. I bet you've never tried that either."

"No, I'm not big on eating my childhood Disney favourites, which means…" she looked up and down the table at all the rich meat dishes. "I should probably stick to the three-bean salad and this pigeon."

Or there was always Faith, more appetising than anything else on offer, but it looked as though she was planning on being eaten by someone else. Buffy's eyes narrowed as she watched the brunette flirt with Dracula, touching his arm and throwing her head back at jokes that just couldn't possibly be that funny. What was her deal anyway? She had always been down on her for falling in love with Angel, even though it had been none of her business back then, so how come she was suddenly all okay with slayers cosying up to vampires?

She happened to catch Faith's eye, a miracle seeing as she only seemed to have eyes for tall, dark and creepy right now, and gave her a cool look, before deliberately turning her back and biting into her pigeon.

Faith stared as Buffy's red cape swirled, her grin slipping away as the cold look registered. What was that about? The last few times she'd caught the blonde's eyes only to have her turn away without a smile, Faith had let it go, assuming she was reading it wrong or something, but now it was starting to piss her off. They'd come here because Buffy wanted to, they'd both agreed to stay, Buffy had been having a blast with her two admirers hanging off her every word, they'd even come to get food because Buffy wanted to – not that Faith was complaining about _that _– so where did B get off with throwing attitude her way?

Faith focused on the Count again, her smile automatically coming back when she did. There was just something about him. Maybe that was Buffy's problem. They knew each other, right? And of course she'd say that was all innocent now, to her, but with B's track record where vampires were concerned, what were the chances? Perhaps she was jealous; wanted the celebrity all to herself? Even if Buffy hadn't ever boinked him, she probably figured Faith was moving in on her claim to fame. Meeting Drac wasn't such a big story to woo the newbies with if Faith had done it too, right?

Well, whatever. She wasn't exactly happy with Buffy ignoring her in favour of a couple of freaks either, but she wasn't making a big deal out of it. She chucked a couple of hard boiled quails eggs in her mouth, chewing and grinning as she listened to Iggy tell a story, trying to figure out exactly what made this pale streak of piss of a Vampire so sexy.

"Foie Gras?" The Count caught her staring, smiled and offered her a dish with something brown and squidgy on it.

"Yeah, that sounds about as appetising as it looks," Faith waved his hand away. "I think I'm gonna grab a leg of Bambi instead." She turned towards the roast stag.

He touched her shoulder and she looked back at him expectantly. Tilting his head, he looked her in the eye and said, "Olwyn wants the Stag for sandwiches… Try the Foie Gras."

"I said…" her brow furrowed as she gazed at him.

He leaned a little closer. "Please?"

"Yeah, sure, why not, looks good…" she took the dish from him and lifted the whole lump up in her fingers.

"You're not going to…" Iggy began, raising his hand as if to stop her from putting it in her mouth. He was too late. He gave the Count a mildly disapproving look, but his voice was genial as he said, "You're good, I'll give you that."

Dracula merely smiled around his fangs.

Still chewing up the enormous lump of goose liver, Faith looked between them, aware that she'd missed something. "What?"

"Nothing, my dear," he drawled in his suave accent. He lightly touched his cool fingertips to her shoulder and held up a silver chalice. "Would you care to try another new experience?"

"Like what?" She looked down into the fancy cup and saw the thick redness inside. Wrinkling her nose and shaking her head she began, "No dude, already told you that's…" she looked up at him as she refused and met his intense eyes. "…why not, guess I'll try anything once."

Before she could take the chalice, the Wizard was there to snatch it away.

"A word, Vlad," he said sternly as he walked off. Laughing, the Count followed him.

Igor grinned and gambolled away. Faith looked around, wondering again what she'd missed.

From further up the table, Buffy had seen everything.

"Excuse me a sec, Guys."

She went to hand her plate to Zeke, remembered her hair issues and handed it to Fred instead, and then walked purposefully up to Faith.

"What are you doing?"

Faith looked startled by the abruptness of the question. "Mingling, same as you. Why?"

Buffy crossed her arms. "That didn't look like mingling."

"Then what did it look like?"

Buffy didn't know for sure, but definitely not mingling. "Look," she began. "I just don't think it's a good idea for you to be so pally with Dracula. He's…"

"Well, you're all pally with the Big Bad Wolf and Frankenstein," Faith countered.

"His name's not Frankenstein," Buffy corrected absently. "It's Fred."

"Fred?" Faith started chuckling.

Buffy grinned in agreement, but then quickly shook it away. "That's not the point. Zeke and Fred are harmless."

Faith gave them a good look. "By what standards?"

"By the standard that they are not vampires!"

"I think you just shot the hole in your own logic there, B. Vampires are the one thing I _know_ I can handle."

"This one's different."

Faith regarded her closely for a moment before asking. "Like Angel and Spike were different?"

"What? No!" Buffy shook her head. "Definitely not!"

"Only, you seem jealous."

"I am not!"

Well, she was; very jealous. After all, her date was not only choosing to mingle rather than spend time with her, she was also defending her right to cosy up to that damn egotistical vampire _instead of spending time with her!_

"Well, maybe it just seems that way," Faith said calmly enough to irritate. "because even though you have those two dudes drooling all over you, you still can't stand the fact that the only vamp in the room would rather make time with me."

"That's not it. I don't care who makes time with you. Every vampire in the world can make time with you if you want. Just not him."

"So you guys were a thing?" Faith was pulling funny faces now, smacking her lips a little and waggling her tongue about. "I knew it."

Buffy frowned at her. "We weren't ever a thing. We had a thing, but not the kind of thing you're talking about and it was not a thing of good. He's dangerous, Faith, and not just vamp dangerous, but… but _tricky_ vamp dangerous, as in he has tricks and he's not afraid to use them." The faces Faith was pulling, like she was trying to turn her mouth inside out or at least get her tongue to walk away, were putting Buffy off, but she tried to explain better. "He can turn into things like…"

"A bat, I know." Faith looked like she wanted to spit the words out.

"And fog and stuff! And he has thrall, Faith!"

"What?"

"Thrall! Like mind control! With his eyes! And you've spent a lot of time looking in his eyes, I've seen you."

"Yeah, I've been talking to him, so what?"

"What is that he is thralling you! God, how can I make this any simpler. Faith, he has you under his thrall, okay, he's…"

"Controlling me with his eyes? I think I'd know if he was doing that, I'm not an idiot. I'm not under any thrall, B, I'm just…" Faith stopped talking to belch really loudly, looking sick she rubbed her fist over her watering mouth a few times. "Shit, what did I frigging eat?"

Buffy held her hand out as if to say, 'there ya go!'.

"What? So rich food doesn't always agree with me? What's that got to do with anything?" Faith asked irritably, still trying to get the nasty taste from her mouth.

Buffy rolled her eyes and reached across the table to grab an abandoned glass of champagne. She handed it to Faith. "You nearly drank blood!"

Faith downed the bubbly and burped again. After, she looked a little better. "I wasn't gonna drink it. I was just messing with him."

"No you weren't."

"Actually, yes I was." Faith handed her back the empty glass and took a step back from her. "Maybe he thralled you once upon a time and that's got you all concerned for me now, and that's sweet, B, really, but I can take care of myself. Besides, we ain't the same on that score, don't matter how hot he is, no vamp is gonna mess with my head, so just chill."

Buffy re-crossed her arms; better to keep them tangled up so they couldn't accidentally lash out and strangle Faith. The most infuriating part of it was, Faith didn't even seem to realise she had offended her. Which made getting mad seem pretty pointless; because was she gonna get mad every time Faith spoke her mind? She either had to learn to accept it, or… something she didn't want to think about.

"Just chill?" she repeated instead, and it would have been hard for her to get much chillier at this point.

"Yeah." Faith nodded. "Go back to your new friends. We still gotta figure out what these dudes are doing here, right? And make sure half of Dawnie's school ain't locked up in the dungeon or someplace."

She had a point.

"Okay," she conceded, dropping her arms to her sides. "Maybe you're right, but just be careful. Don't look him in the eye or anything."

"No problem, you know I only got eyes for you, B." Faith smiled at her.

Buffy rolled her eyes, but found herself smiling as well. She hated that Faith could make her do that, but she kinda loved it too. Faith's eyes drew her in, and she thought they were about to kiss, which was fine by her, until a voice beside them said: "Faith, Olwyn suggested you would like some ale." in a sexy, Slavic kind of way.

"As in a beer, hell yeah."

Buffy only just avoided planting her lips on the side of Faith's head as the brunette turned sharply towards the offer of a real drink. She steadied herself with a hand on Faith's shoulder and gripped it painfully tight to get her attention back.

Faith glanced at her as she took the tankard of ale, and then looked back at Dracula, grinning. "Oh wait, no blood in it, is there?"

"Alas, no," he drawled. "It is merely ale."

Faith turned the grin on her, "See, Babe? Nothing to worry about."

Buffy fumed at her silently, waiting for the reason for her anger to register. It didn't. Faith was already caught up in the poser vampire again.

"I thought we were talking," she ground out.

"I thought we'd finished." Faith shrugged.

She duly turned herself back around to hear what else Buffy had left to say, but the little smiles she was giving out were going straight over Buffy's shoulder.

"What is your problem?" Buffy whispered harshly.

She knew Dracula would be able to hear her, hell, half the room had probably heard the whole conversation, but it didn't matter. This wasn't work related, it was personal, which meant she could tell it to the whole damn world if she wanted… and okay, so that didn't actually sound like something she should want to do, but damn it, Faith was pissing her off!

At least Faith didn't look embarrassed by her whispered outburst, just annoyed. "I don't have a problem, Buffy. I'm fine. We're at a cool party, and I'm just trying to enjoy it. And I really wish you didn't have a problem either, but you obviously do, so just let me have it instead of hissing and glaring at me."

_Oh, I have a problem, F! It's called you being so under this jerk's thrall you can't even see it. And God forbid you might actually take my word and trust me for once. Oh no, doesn't matter that I've been there, done it and busted out of it! No, just because I happen to have slept with one, okay, two vampires in my past, my judgement can't be trusted. What about all the guys you've slept with! And women probably! I probably shouldn't trust your judgement on humans! But I do, or I would if it ever came up, but no, of course you always know better. Which is pretty damn weird seeing as you don't even know the basics in human psychology, like how stupid it is to ignore your date in favour of an evil Vampire all night!_

Buffy rolled her shoulders and looked Faith squarely in the eye as she said aloud, "I don't have a problem, everything's fine."

"Good." Faith nodded. "Because I just wanna have fun tonight."

Buffy followed Faith's gaze to a smirking Dracula and then looked at Faith again – who wasn't even bothering to look back at her!

Sneering, she said, "Yeah, you wanna have fun so bad you don't even care who you _have it_ with! Well, don't let me stop you, go for it!"

Furious, Buffy stomped off to where she could see a nearly full champagne bottle on another table.

Faith stared after her, her mouth open in surprise. She turned back to Dracula for a second, and then looked at Buffy again, who was now guzzling champagne straight from the bottle.

"Damn," she muttered, giving the vampire her full attention. "Not sure what the hell just happened, but I get the feeling it's gonna cost me later."

"The Slayer will be fine, I am sure," the Count said genially. "She is very resilient from what I remember."

"So you two really do go way back, huh?" Faith asked, perching her ass on the edge of the table.

"No, we met only recently."

"Just how recently?" She asked, feeling some jealousy rising again.

The Count thought about it. "About three years ago, I believe."

"That's recent?" Faith relaxed and took a sip from her tankard.

"It is to me. So, tell me, what has it been like to forever live in her shadow?"

Not liking that question at all, Faith's eyes narrowed. "It's been fine. So what are you guys doing here? Did you just fancy partying in an abandoned house, or do you all, like, mansion-share here or something?"

"It's Olwyn's house…"

"The Shopkeeper guy?"

"He throws a party for us every year at this time."

"Really?" Faith asked suspiciously.

Dracula nodded. "Yes, why?"

"Only, the way I heard it, monsters stayed at home on Halloween."

"Well, Olwyn is our family," he waved his arm to encompass everyone in the room. "So, in essence, we are all at home."

"Huh." Faith mused on that for a second or two, but couldn't find anything in it big enough to dispute. "Okay. So what, you all just have a quiet little get-together? Toasting Satan and roasting humans over an open fire?"

Dracula laughed, showing lots of white fang. "None of us are particularly religious these days and Olwyn has strict policies about humans."

"Prefers them boiled?" Faith cast a glance at the Wizard. He was standing with the tetchy short guy, but his eyes were on Buffy. She looked at him harder, trying to guess what he was thinking.

Dracula laughed again. "Prefers them alive."

"Oh." That was kinda reassuring. She turned to the vampire again, but couldn't help her gaze going now and again to Owen, wondering why he was so interested in Buffy.

"So, Faith, why are you here?"

"B's little sister said she got chased outta here by a bat, so, we came to investigate," she said without really thinking about it.

"No, I meant why are you here?"

He spoke softly, and Faith looked at him sarcastically, ready to repeat what she'd already said, but as she met his gaze she faltered slightly. She swallowed and cleared her throat.

"Well, uh, for B. It's her little sis, ya know?"

The Count tilted his head to one side without breaking eye contact. "Why are you in Boudenver?"

Faith swallowed again. "Uh, for B… for Buffy."

"But why? You could be anywhere. You could be doing anything? Why be here, where you are so unhappy?"

"I'm not unhappy."

"So you are happy _right now_, with Buffy?" he asked softly, sounding surprised.

"Well… yeah. I think so."

"You don't sound very sure."

"I'm not used to being happy," she admitted. "Not totally sure I know what it's supposed to feel like."

"From what I just heard, it doesn't sound like she makes you happy," Dracula said sympathetically.

"She's… difficult," Faith said awkwardly. "Or I am. I don't know. She has high standards. I don't know if I'm ever gonna be able to live up to them."

"That's a lot of pressure on you, Faith…"

"No, I can handle it…"

"I'm know you can." He paused long enough to let his belief in her sink in. "But should you have to?"

Faith looked pained. "Huh?"

"Don't you have standards of your own? Dreams of your own? Everyone longs to be more than what they are in this moment. Do you think you can achieve that as things stand?"

"I don't get what you…"

The Count interrupted her gently, "Don't you want to find redemption on your own merits?"

"Of course, but…"

"And do you really believe you can do that while living by another's rules?"

"I don't know?"

"Especially when those rules are simply confusing you more and more?"

"I… I… don't know another way."

"There are many paths to enlightenment, Faith, and the one you have chosen is by far harder than what is needed… I can show you a better way."

"You can, huh?" Faith cocked her head, studying him, trying to read what was behind his eyes. It wasn't easy, so she looked harder; figuring there had to be some sign of his intentions in there. The guy just seemed genuine, which normally would be suspicious all on its own, but she was trying to let go of that kind of negative thinking. Relaxing, she gave him a bright smile. "I'm all for an easy life, man, so go on then, let's hear it."

Buffy took another pull on the champagne bottle, hoping it would cure her hiccups. It didn't and all the bubbles were making her feel sick.

"Stupid… hic… fizzy wine," she grumbled. "Goes with the stupid… hic… party."

She had her back very pointedly to Faith and Dracula now, but she could see how very much Faith wasn't bothering to come after her in the reflections on the long, dark windows.

"Clueless bi…hic…tch." She watched the Count seducing her through narrowed eyes. "An' as for…hic… you, you sleazy… hic… show boater…"

Her fingers fiddled with a pair of wooden salad tongs. They weren't the ideal weapon, being mostly blunt, but – she smiled nastily – she could make it work.

"You do realise that staking him would only make him more infuriating," said a soft melodic voice by her shoulder.

Buffy looked up to see the wizard, or shopkeeper or whatever he was, standing there. "Actually, I was thinking of staking her," she pointed the salad tongs at Faith's reflection. "But I think the same warning applies… hic… anyway."

Frustrated, she dropped the salad tongs, took a big, deep breath and held it.

Owen smiled and politely gestured to the chair next to her. "Do you mind if I sit down?"

Buffy shrugged, still holding her breath as she counted to sixty in her head.

He took the seat and waited patiently until her breath exploded out and she slowly drew in a fresh lungful. Feeling confident she'd banished the annoying hiccups, she began,

"You can sit where you like, after all, it's your house…hic… apparently... Damn!"

"Yes, about that…"

"We were told this place…hic… was abandoned."

"Well, it might have appeared that way to some…"

"By the deputy sheriff… hic… You know Alex, right?"

"Of course, very well in fact."

Buffy nodded. "So how come he didn't know you lived out here?"

"He's never needed to."

That seemed reasonable. Buffy knew she should be interrogating this guy. He'd been on the suspicious customer list for a while now, and this bumped him right to the top, but she had bigger things on her mind. Faith and Dracula looked like they were whispering secrets to each other _and_ she was looking in his stupid smoky eyes – hadn't she warned her about that?

_Fine, get bit, look like an idiot in the morning, see if I care. At least __**I**__ had the decency to do it behind Riley's back._

Buffy flicked her glance at Owen again, and then up and down him, taking in his long, deep blue robe and impressive – and slightly ridiculous – pointy hat.

"So Zeke is kinda like a real wolf…hic… and Fred is a real monster, so does that mean… hic… you're a real wizard?"

Owen gave her a strange little smile. "Do you believe in wizards?"

"I believe in witches, so…hic… by default, I guess I must do, but… hic… I've never met one that actually wore the pointy…hic… hat. My friend Willow would probably say you were a phoney because you're…hic… trying to hard. Do my hic…hic…cups seem to be getting worse to you? Maybe I should…hic…stand on my head and…hic… drink a glass of water…hic…."

Owen smiled as he lifted his arm and pulled his wide sleeve back from his hand. "Why on your head?"

"Because you're supposed to…hic… drink it upside down, or so I heard. What are you…hic…doing?" She pulled her head back as he tried to place three fingertips against the column of her throat.

"Apparently regressing to my youth," he said, managing to get his fingers where he wanted them. They were a light, warm pressure against her skin. "Please, could you make an 'Ahh' sound."

Buffy shrugged; at least he wasn't asking her to cluck like a chicken. "I thought it was only…hic… Doctors that made you go 'Ahh'" she said, before actually going, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhh."

He motioned for her to hold it, but when she hiccupped mid-ahh, she was about to give it up when he suddenly flicked her windpipe sharply and said something in Latin.

"Hey ow!" She pulled back again, rubbing her stinging throat. "What did you do that for?"

"I was proving myself to be real. Although I am now acknowledging that it perhaps would have been better to leave you believing I am nothing but a silly old man that likes to dress up on Halloween.

"So far, you haven't changed my opinion," Buffy said irritably, still tenderly touching her throat. "Except, now I don't just think you're just a silly, old man; I think you're a _mean,_ silly old man!"

Owen chuckled. "Pride before a fall. When will I learn to stop trying to impress beautiful girls with my powers, I wonder?"

Buffy frowned at him. "_Creepy, _mean, silly, old man. You're old enough to be my grandpa! I thought you were going to cure my hiccups for me not get dirty old man thrills from touching my throat, that's… that's…." Buffy paused as something occurred to her. She waited a few extra seconds just to make sure, and then she smiled. "They're gone."

Owen simply nodded, smiling.

"Cool. Thank you." She looked at him more closely. "So you really are a wizard?"

He didn't say anything.

"Living right here on the Hellmouth, too. Is that a coincidence?"

He still didn't say anything, just gave her that tiny little cryptic smile.

"I doubt it," she answered herself. "Sunnydale had all sorts of shady characters living behind the scenes. Shoulda expected the same to start showing themselves around here too sooner or later."

"So you haven't met any others yet?" he asked curiously.

"Nope, you're the first," she eyed him suspiciously. "First normal sized one anyway," she added, thinking of the Piskies. "So, if I tossed you in the air – and, believe me, I could – which side would you land on – Heads for Good or Tails for Evil?"

His smile grew. "If I was evil would I have cured your hiccups?"

"Could be all part of a bigger plan of wickedness," she said perkily, starting to enjoy this conversation, just as she saw Faith pulled – laughing – onto the dance floor by Iggy. "Hang on, totally evil trumps ambiguously evil."

She stood up and started walking towards Dracula.

"One moment," Owen called out, and she turned to him impatiently. "From one character of the shadows to another, will you keep my secret?"

"Firstly, I'm retired from the shadows," she said quickly, but she mused on the actual question for a moment before she said, "Secondly, I don't know yet. I guess we'll see."

She stormed up to the Count now, who smiled when he saw her approach, he dropped it though when she pushed him so hard his ass hit the edge of the table and he sat on a dish of caviar.

"How dare you, Slayer!"

"Oh, I dare. I dare a big freaking amount, you son of a bitch. Stop using your mind games on Faith!"

"I am not doing any such thing."

"Yes, you are. I've been watching you and ever since we got here you've been hitting her with your dark power-y seduction routine. I get it, you like the challenge of doing it with a slayer, you're not the first, and Spike's approach was way better than yours."

"Spike! That little runt?" Dracula growled in his throat.

"That's right," Buffy smiled. "So stop the games now!"

"I am not playing," he said, his eyes icy. "I am very serious about making Faith mine."

Buffy punched him, or tried to; he caught her hand before it could connect with his finely chiselled nose.

"Never gonna happen!" she said through gritted teeth as she roughly pulled her hand back.

"How can you be so sure? She was born to be my bride. She is so beautifully dark inside…"

"No, she's not."

"You know she is," he smiled.

"We're working on it," Buffy said without missing a beat.

"She's attracted to evil men."

"No, that's me. Faith just wants a daddy figure."

Dracula tilted his head to one side as he thought. "That would keep my other brides from becoming jealous. I will take her."

"I'm not giving her away!"

"I'm not asking."

"That works out fine, because you're not having either."

"We shall see." He dramatically pulled his cape around him as if he was going to stalk off.

Buffy pushed him back onto the table. "No we shall not! Get over it, because this is never gonna happen. You want a new bride; go find one that doesn't belong with me."

He tilted his head again, fangs just showing through his cruel smile. "And where would be the pleasure in that?"

"You son of a… You're only doing this because you know she's with me." Seething, she jabbed a finger at his chest.

"How quickly she catches on," he mocked her. "You will rue the day you made a fool out of me, Slayer!"

"You're gonna find I don't rue much, vampire, and when I do, I save it for important stuff, like wishing I'd gone for the donut instead of the granola bar, or regretting not getting my hair done before Faith came back from prison, because now when I go I'm gonna come back about six shades lighter and that's gonna be noticeable. So you see why I don't have time to rue over anything to do with you, I'm all rued out. So," she prodded him sharply in the chest with her finger three times as she said, "Leave…Faith… alone!"

He leaned backwards across the table with the prodding. When she'd finished, she crossed her arms and glared at him threateningly.

He sat forward again with a smile. "No."

Buffy was ready for war now and about to launch herself at the infuriating bastard, when Faith appeared beside them, flushed and still laughing from the dancing.

"Hey, guys, not interrupting anything am I?" she asked, slinging an arm around Buffy's neck and resting her hand on Dracula's shoulder.

"No, and are you ready? It's time we left," Buffy said firmly.

"I haven't finished my drink yet. Besides I was in the middle of a conversation with Drac here." Faith unhooked her arm from Buffy as she looked around for her tankard.

"We have plenty of beer at home." Buffy caught her hand, trying to keep Faith by her side.

"That's not the point." Faith looked down at their joined hands and Buffy saw repulsion flash in her eyes. It was only there for a breath before being replaced by uncertainty as Faith glanced around the room uncomfortably.

But it had been there and so Buffy didn't fight it when Faith gently pulled her hand free.

The Count was giving her a smug smile. She wasn't going to let it get to her. So Faith felt uneasy holding hands in a room full of strangers, that wasn't weird. What was weirder was that she didn't feel _uneasy_ about holding hands in private too.

She bet if she offered to _do_ Faith right there on the banquet table between the pickled mushrooms and the roast stag it would be a different story – not that she was going to test that theory. Unless Dracula really raised his game.

"There isn't a point," she said, turning to meet Faith's eye. "There is just us going home. Please. Now."

Faith slowly crossed her arms and just looked at her, a mildly sarcastic smile playing on her lips. Buffy glared back, waiting for her to back down, but it was futile, the longer this battle of wills went on for, the less chance there was of Faith admitting defeat.

"Please?"

"Why you in such a hurry, B? You sick or something?"

"No, I just _want _to leave."

"And I _don't_ wanna. So do you wanna end our first date with a fight, or do you wanna compromise, huh?"

Buffy still glared at her.

The Count filled her silence. "There is another option. You can always go home if you wish and perhaps Faith will follow you later."

"Follow, my ass," Faith muttered to herself as she looked around for her ale again.

Buffy blinked a few times, weighing up her options, it really was tempting to turn on her heel and storm right on out of there. And, not that her luck made it likely, perhaps Faith would get lost on the way home and have to spend the night in the cold, damp woods all alone. But what if _she_ got lost on the way home? That wasn't such an attractive thought and she didn't know the woods around here that much better than Faith did.

"What was your compromise?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"You relax. I finish my drink." Faith raised her reclaimed tankard. "And we get to know these fine gentlemen a little better. What do ya say?"

"I say that sounds more like us doing exactly what you want than an actual compromise."

"Fine. We'll leave as soon as you find the keys to the truck." Faith gave her a pointed look. "Can't go without 'em, right?"

Right, missing keys, missing annoying English boy, maybe Faith wasn't quite so enthralled as she seemed, or maybe she was prepared to use her sacred duty to get her more time with the infamous vampire?

"Why do I have to look for them?"

"Because I'm talking. Drac's gonna tell me how much fun the party was when all the little kiddies were here." She gave Buffy another pointed look.

Buffy sighed and turned away, leaving her to do what she wanted, she was obviously going to anyway. She turned on the spot, checking out the room, wondering where to start looking.

"Have you lost something?"

She jumped at Fred's deep voice right behind her. "Uh, yeah, car keys."

"I will help you find them," he offered.

"Thanks. Uh, I don't know where to look."

"Let me sniff you." Zeke appeared on her other side.

"What?" Buffy took a step away, bumping gently into Fred's huge torso. "I really don't think so!"

Rolling his big, brown eyes, he picked up her hand and sniffed it gently.

"Oh," she muttered. "What will that do?"

He dropped to all fours and said over his shoulder. "I'll be able to trace the keys by your scent."

"Oh, that's pretty useful… but I never had the keys," she explained. "One of the kids at the party drove here in our truck and the truck's still here, so… we figured he must be too, uh, I mean, they must still be… too."

Zeke sat on his haunches and looked up at her. "Squirts all got chased outta here hours ago."

Fred nodded, "Yes, we could hear their screams echoing in the woods all around."

Buffy stared at him for a moment, shuddering slightly at the solemn delivery of that line. "Well, what if one or two of them didn't quite make it out?"

Ptah had joined their loose circle. "The youths were like sheep, when one ran the rest followed. Why would one or two not have?"

"I don't know," she said carefully. "Perhaps… perhaps…"

"Just what are you insinuating?" The sour-pussed Victor asked as he joined them too. "That we have kept one of your children for our own nefarious purposes?"

"I'm not insinuating anything," Buffy backtracked quickly, "Except, you know, exactly what you just said."

Victor's pompousness deflated as he muttered, "They all ran too fast."

"And the rest of us," Ptah said quickly, almost over the top of him. "have no use for youths, nefarious or otherwise. In fact, we couldn't get rid of them soon enough."

"That is true." Fred nodded.

"Plus, me and Vlad had a look around when we go back, just to make sure there weren't any cowering in a corner somewhere you understand," Zeke grinned. "We didn't find any."

"Really?" Buffy wasn't sure if she should believe them, but even if she did, it still didn't address her problem. "So if you guys were chasing them out of here why didn't the slayers use the truck? It would have been a little faster surely."

"Maybe they ran too fast," Ptah shrugged.

"Maybe." Buffy looked around suspiciously again.

They seemed pretty dead set on stopping her from looking around for them herself. That had to mean they were hiding something, right?

"If you don't believe us, woman, don't be so shy; come out with it," Victor snapped at her.

"I never said that," she snapped back.

"Take a look around if you would like," Ptah offered politely, although there was hurt in his eyes. "But I fear you will only be wasting your time."

"Yeah, you're not going to find any of your kids bound and gagged in any of the rooms," Zeke said seriously, and then his mouth opened into a wide grin. "But if you wanna check every last one out, I don't mind helping."

"Me too!" Wow, so Fred could speak quickly.

"No, no, I trust you," she said fast, pushing the monster back a little bit to give herself some space. She wasn't traipsing around for hours with these two in tow, that was for sure. "I believe you haven't kept any kiddie meals in a spare bedroom. But where the heck does that make Reece and the keys?"

She looked around again, exasperated.

* * *

"This is getting very tiresome!" Reece grunted as he ran down another pitch dark corridor.

Without being completely sure, because strangely enough the inside of one wall looked a lot like the inside of every other wall, he thought they might be up as high as the third story now. They hadn't passed an exterior slit of a window in a while either so that last sharp turn must have directed them back towards the middle of the house.

"Really, 'cause I thought we passed tiresome hours ago." Even Rona sounded a little out of breath now.

"Then stop yer feckin' chasin' me," squealed the creature ahead of them with an Irish brogue.

Reece nearly fell over his own feet at hearing the thing shout. It had only muttered unfathomably so far.

Rona was unfazed. "We'll stop chasing when you stop runnin'."

"Well, oy ain't gonna stop runnin' until yer stop chasin'!"

"Good grief," Reece muttered, "this is going to go on forever."

"Fine," he heard Rona shout ahead. "You keep running. We'll just find a way outside and set the place on fire. Let's see how much you enjoy running around a burning building!"

"You know we can't actually do that, yes?" Reece checked as they ran.

"Why not? You got your lighter on you, don't you?"

"Yes, but there are civilians in the house," he said, not knowing that most of them had cleared out hours ago.

"So? They can all leave when we do." Rona said, and then shouted the last bit. "Not like any of them are _trapped in the walls_, is it?"

There was a resounding crunch and a holler of pain as Paddy jumped and tucked his legs and head in, letting his momentum cannon ball him through the wooden door at the end of the corridor. There was muffled swearing and some clanking as he tried to quickly extricate himself from the cupboard with the false back on the other side.

"What happened?" Reece shouted, fumbling to get his Zippo out of his pocket as he ran.

"I flushed him out," Rona said with a hint of pride in her voice. "Can't believe he fell for it."

As Reece flicked the Zippo alight, the exit sign above the door ahead glowed a faint green. He just had time to make out a big hole in the bottom of the door before Rona pulled it open. Holding the lighter above their heads, he crowded her into the small space to help her get the other side open.

"Hey, watch it," she complained as they burst into the room beyond together.

They both froze in surprise, so did the little man trying to push a high backed wooden chair towards the main door. At about two and half foot tall, he was a lot bigger than a Piskie and barely half the size of a man. The thick ginger beard and ruddy complexion ruled out five years old though.

As soon as the tableaux had frozen, it erupted into real time again as Rona went from nought to sprinting across the room in an instant. Paddy gave a high squeal, abandoned his chair and started tearing around the room away from her.

Reece went to intercept him, but Rona stopped him,

"Maintain our line!"

"What?" he asked, confused by the order at first. "Oh, you mean cover the exit?"

"Whatever," she snapped as she ran around the table. "Just don't let him outta that hole."

Reece pushed the door shut and leaned against it. He wanted to contribute more than this, but he had to admit it was nice to have a breather. According to the clock on the mantelpiece in here – assuming it was telling the right time – he had been inside the walls for nearly three hours. And for two of those at least he'd been chasing this blighter around. Well, they had him now.

Rona ran around and around the table trying to get her hands on Paddy, but he was just a little too quick. Plus he had the advantage of being able to duck underneath the table, and when she dropped to her hands and knees to scurry between the chair legs after him, he popped out the other side!

The dining room they were in was pretty much like the one she'd raided earlier for her wooden spoon, but much more intimate. The table was half the size, probably only able to seat four at the most, although with the half-melted candles and the rose in the tall glass vase, maybe it had been intended just for two.

And she was sharing this romantic space with a homicidal little person, and Reece. Who had she pissed off to get this lucky, huh?

Paddy continued to dodge and duck her attempts to catch him, muttering threats and mild expletives the whole time. He'd cornered himself in here, which was an eejit thing to do, but he had to have more stamina than the average human. They'd drop from exhaustion sooner or later. The lad already looked full of fatigue. He just had to keep out of the lassy's reach and he'd be okay.

After the third time of her fingers grazing his little green duffle coat just a fraction too late, Rona stopped running in circles and in a swift, easy move that thrilled her more than she expected, she turned the solid table over and sent it crashing to its side.

The candles bounced off and rolled away and the glass vase tinkled into glittering pieces as she gave the exposed Paddy a satisfied smirk.

Paddy stared at her, once again immobilised by surprise.

"Well, catch him then," Reece called over, breaking the spell.

"I am," Rona barked at him, lunging forward to do just that.

Paddy pulled his carving knife from out of his coat and waved it at her. "I'd loike ter see yer try."

"Rona, be careful!"

She rolled her eyes. "'What else am I gonna be? I thought my Watcher was supposed to teach me stuff I _didn't _already know," she grumbled to herself.

Checking her lunge, she brought her foot up instead to kick him. He jumped backwards to avoid it, rebounded off of the underside of the table and slashed at her boot as he involuntarily came forward again.

"_Don't_ you put a slice in my boot," she warned it. "Giles hardly gives us a cent for clothing allowance."

"Keep yer damn boot away from me then!" he suggested, slashing again as she kicked out.

"Put down the blade and I won't squash you like a bug," Rona negotiated, still kicking.

"Yes yer will!" he countered, still slashing.

To Reece it looked like some highly exotic, but only mildly dangerous, performance art. He wondered, stifling a yawn, if they'd even notice if he sat down and had five minutes of shut-eye.

Paddy's six inch blade bit deep into the leather of Rona's boot – there was another of those perfectly still moments – and then Rona yelped in pain and Paddy tried to run, didn't matter where as long as it was away. Rona helped him out with a furious and pain-fuelled kick to his arse with her other foot.

"Ahheeeiiiieee!" He cried as he sailed through the air at high speed straight towards the solid wall.

Gravity started pulling him down to thankfully miss smacking straight into the brick and plaster, not so thankfully he crashed once again through solid wood and the same gravity that had been his friend a second before started pulling him in a freefall through the darkness.

"Ahheeeiiiieee!"

Reece rushed to the centre of the room. "Where did he go?"

He looked around frantically, the moonlight coming through the bare windows lit the room up fairly well, but there were still areas of deep shadows, especially in the corners.

"I heard a crack," Rona said as she gingerly pulled the knife from her boot. A little blood dripped from the edge and she looked around the room instead of thinking about it. "There, look. In the wall."

She limped closer and reached out to the wooden panel in the otherwise brick wall. It was large, about three by three foot and there was a handle at the top.

"Let me look at your foot," Reece insisted, dragging a chair upright for her to sit on.

"Like we have time for you to play nursemaid," she told him harshly as she pulled on the handle.

The wooden hatch pulled downwards to form a shelf. Inside it looked like a small elevator shaft.

"What the hell?"

Reece sighed loudly at her stubbornness. "It's a dumbwaiter."

"A what?"

"It's a lift for food. There would have been a box to put the food in and then you can pull it straight up here from the kitchen. Saves the kitchen staff from making trip after trip up the stairs and it means the all food arrives hot and relatively at the same time."

"So this goes directly down to the kitchen?" Rona pointed down the hole.

"Yes, and probably every other room on this side of the house that people might eat in."

"So this goes straight down to the first floor!" she said, like he was missing her point. "The floor where all the high school kids are _and_ the way out?"

"Oh. Yes…"

She was balanced on the shelf with her head already down the shoot before he could add anything else.

"What are you…?"

"He's not getting away," she insisted, her voice muffled.

Reece just stared as her feet disappeared. "You're gonna land head first in a confined space, you bloody twit," he shouted. "And probably on top of that… that… small person," he finished with a helpless wave of his hand.

Realising he had to do _something;_ he dashed to the main door, yanked it open and ran blindly through the dark looking for the staircase.

_ Thanks for reading. More tomorrow._


	20. Act 4:7

Buffy had only just finished wondering aloud about Reece when a panel in the wall on the other side of the banquet table shot open. She jumped back, actually everyone jumped back, as a child tumbled out to land smack bang on top of the delicate Fall flower and twig table decoration.

"It twernt my fault, Olwyn, I sweer!" The new arrival said quickly. Then, spotting a bottle of champagne by his side, the newcomer picked it up and began guzzling.

The wizard stepped forward. "Paddy, where have you been?"

Realising that this wasn't a child, Buffy stepped to the table again too. Wondering what kind of monster she was about to meet next. A very short man, dressed in green, with an Irish accent…

No way, it couldn't be!

"I wus trapped between de walls!" he complained when he'd slacked his thirst. "Oy couldn't git away from dem!"

"Get away from whom?" Owen asked in concern as he helped him down from the table.

Muffled cursing came from the hole and a few seconds later a girl pulled herself out head first, to fall inelegantly down between the wall and the table.

"Where is it?" she demanded as she jumped upright, waving a bloody carving knife around menacingly.

"Rona?" Buffy stared at the angry slayer in surprise.

"Buffy?" Rona looked just as surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"We could ask you the same question, kid." Faith strolled over.

"I…" Rona looked around properly for the first time since flying out of the shoot and realised this was a really different crowd to the one she'd been partying with a few hours ago. "Uh?"

"My thtalker!" Iggy greeted her jovially. "It hurtth that you gave up thtalking me to thtalk Paddy inthtead."

Rona stared at him for a beat, before looking at Buffy. "What did he say?"

"I have no idea," she admitted. "But more importantly, what were you doing back there?"

"I was…" she spotted Paddy trying to hide behind Owen's flowing robes. "…trying to catch him!"

"And you think we are monsters," Victor said disdainfully.

"Why?" Zeke asked with his natural grin.

"He was stalking me!" Rona said, still frenetic with adrenaline.

"Paddy doesn't stalk people," The Count said with casual assurance. "His legs are not long enough."

"Whereath you have already revealed yourthelf as a fairly competent thtalker earlier tonight," Iggy reminded them.

"He has a knife!" Rona shouted, pointing at him.

Everyone turned to look at Paddy, who held his hands up to show he wasn't armed.

"Patrick," Owen said sternly.

Swiftly, Paddy unbuttoned his coat to show there were no knives beneath it either.

They all turned back to Rona. "What?"

"Uh." Buffy nodded to her hand.

Rona slowly turned to look and spotted the knife she was holding. The blood was drying on the blade. She thrust it forward angrily. Those closest stepped back again.

"This is his knife!"

"How convenient," said Victor meaningfully.

"Did she stab you, Paddy?" Ptah asked, eyeing the drying blood.

"No, this is my blood! He stabbed me."

"You do not seem injured," Fred rumbled, looking closely as if to make sure.

"I am." Rona dropped the knife to the ballroom floor and pulled off one of her boots. She lifted her foot towards them. "Look."

They all did. The smooth brown foot was uncut. A slight reddish blemish was noticeable on the edge, but it didn't look recently stabbed.

When no one immediately exonerated her, she pulled her foot back to herself for a look. Dropping it back to the floor in disgust, she sighed, "Frikkin' Slayer healing! Honestly Buffy…" she began.

"I believe you," Buffy cut in, aware that the monsters were closing ranks, protecting their buddy.

"Well I do not see why you would," Dracula drawled. "When there is no proof."

Faith snatched the boot from the floor and inspected the foot part. After a moment she wriggled her finger into the half inch gash in the leather. She held it up for everyone to see.

"How's this for proof?"

"That could have occurred at any time," Owen said calmly; to Buffy it looked like an act.

There was agreement from several of the monsters all the same.

Before any of the Slayers had a chance to dispute it, Reece came charging into the ballroom. Sweating hard and out of breath, his shirt tails flapped behind him.

"Where is she?" he panted before he spotted Rona. Storming to her side, he said roughly, "Don't ever do anything so foolish again!"

She ignored this and pointed to Paddy. "Can you tell them we were chasing _that_ in self defence."

"You were chasing him too?" Buffy asked.

He seemed startled to hear her voice, but was too busy trying to catch his breath to do more than nod and politely greet her, "Miss Summers." He looked around some more and saw the other elder slayer. He gave her a nod too. "Faith."

"How come he's all formal with you and I just get 'Faith'?"

"Because I have a last name to be formal with," Buffy muttered, still angry with her.

"Hey, I have a last name too, ya know," Faith griped, picking up on her attitude. "I just don't happen to know it off-hand."

"Whatever. So why were you running around in the walls anyway?" Buffy asked. "Before you started chasing this guy, who, I'd just like to point out, isn't what I think he is, because they don't exist!" she added firmly for her own benefit.

"When I went in I thought I was following a vamp. With a party full of high school kids, seemed better than letting him wander around without a chaperone. Didn't expect to get stuck in there with a knife-wielding Munchkin," Rona explained, glaring at Paddy.

"Okay, makes sense so far," Faith nodded.

Buffy waited for Reece's explanation.

"I was looking for Rona. I saw the open door, reasoned that as we hadn't found her in the rest of the house this was the logical place to look next, and so I went through it. As it turns out I was right."

"So you left my little sister running through the woods in the dark to run around after a… a…" she pointed at Paddy.

"No, I left Dawn walking around a well-lit house packed with her school friends," Reece countered. "And while we're on the subject where are they all?" He looked around at the assorted monsters. "And who are all of you?" He looked at Buffy again. "And why haven't you slayed the very obvious vampire standing beside you?"

Buffy glanced around at Dracula, wrinkling her nose. "He'll only come back again."

"You can do that?" Faith smiled up at him, seemingly smitten again.

"Okay, we're going," Buffy said firmly.

"I think that would be for the best," Owen agreed.

"So that little runt gets away with stabbing me," Rona asked in disgust.

"Call it punishment for trespassing on my property," Owen said smoothly; a hand over Paddy's face to stop him from issuing insults of his own.

"What?" Rona wasn't happy with that.

"Call it the one that got away, yo," Faith, grinning, handed her back her boot. "It happens."

"It's sucks!"

"It does," Buffy agreed. "Now let's go. Faith, are you coming?"

"'Course I'm coming. You got the keys to the truck?" she asked Reece.

He checked his pockets and there was a satisfying jangle. "Yes. But really, what happened to the party?"

Rona was pulling her boot back on, but seeing Reece's gesture she quickly patted her own pocket. Feeling a lump in there, she pulled the small digital camera out to check it hadn't broken.

"Thank God," she breathed seeing it was all intact.

"What do you have there?" Victor peered closer with interested suspicion.

"Uh, a camera," Rona said sarcastically as she pressed the 'on' button to make sure it still worked. "You know, to take pictures with."

"You point it at someone and it records a perfect image," Fred explained patiently.

"Hmm, fascinating."

"Magic like that is dangerous," Ptah said, shaking his head.

"It's not magic," Owen assured him. "Simply technology. You haven't been taking any photos in here have you?"

Rona's eyes flicked to Reece as she said, "I never got the chance."

"Good," said Owen.

"I have an idea!" Igor capered on the spot excitedly. "Does it have a timer?"

"No!" Owen said, guessing what his friend had in mind.

"Pleathe?" Igor pleaded. "Jutht a thmall momento."

Owen sighed.

Five minutes later, with everyone still blinking the flash from their eyes, they walked back through to the main entrance. Buffy and Faith stopped at the top of the steps while Reece and Rona both kept on going wearily for the truck.

"About what we spoke of," Owen said to Buffy softly. "Have you come to a decision?"

Buffy gave him a long look and then looked around at his friends before answering. "I'm not going to go all 'Town cryer-y' with your secret double life, if that's what you're asking. At least, not unless you give me a reason to."

"Thank you," he said just as softly.

She gave him a tiny nod. "Well, guys, it's been… weird, but… enjoy the rest of your night, I guess."

Faith downed the dregs of her tankard and handed it to Dracula. "Nice meeting you. And thanks for the chat. You gave me some stuff to think about." She nodded at him seriously.

Buffy frowned at her, but didn't say anything.

They were walking down the front steps together when Buffy suddenly turned again. With a bemused smile, she addressed Paddy,

"Sorry, but I gotta know. Are you really a… a…" she shook her head. "Nope, can't do it. I need _some_ mystery in my life. Okay, see-ya."

"What was that about?" Faith asked as they walked over to the truck.

Buffy just shook her head and opened the passenger door.

Reece already had the engine running as he looked over. "It's probably illegal, but if you two don't mind sharing one seat, we can all fit up front." He smirked as he added, "I'm sure you won't mind sitting on Faith's lap."

Buffy took a deep breath and let Faith slide past her to sit on the remaining seat. When she was comfortable and patting her lap for Buffy to hop on, Buffy shook her head.

"Actually, I just remembered I get car sick if I ride on people's laps."

"We can switch?" Faith offered with a shrug.

"That'll do it too. I'll sit in the back. I don't mind. It's only for five minutes." She closed the door before Faith could protest or offer to join her and hopped easily onto the flat bed of the truck.

The gravel made a loud crunching sound as Reece swung in a wide circle to turn and then he was heading for the long driveway. Zeke and Fred were still standing in the bright doorway and they waved to her. With a weary, morose chuckle, she waved back.

* * *

Kennedy had to be on her way home now, Willow decided as she looked at the clock on the mantle again. It was nearly one in the morning and Dawn's curfew was twelve. Not that it would matter considering Buffy still wasn't back from her date with Faith either.

What if something had happened? Maybe the truck had broken down? Or they'd been attacked by the Boudenver pre-teens like Xander had, only worse 'cause they were all hopped up on sugar tonight?

She leaned forward to pick her cell phone off the coffee table in case she'd somehow missed a call even though she was sitting right in front of it.

"Am I boring you?" Oz asked suddenly.

"What?" she asked, quickly turning her head to him. "Oh, no, not at all, sorry. I'm listening; it's just its getting late and Dawn's still out."

"Dawn?" He said the name like it was unfamiliar.

"Yeah, you know, Buffy's little sister." Her phone was on and there had been no calls or messages.

"Buffy has a little sister?"

Willow looked at him again, frowning now. "Of course she does. You remember her," she assured him.

"I do?"

"Yeah," Willow said, less sure of herself now. "You must have met her a bunch of times. She was the little nipper who used to get all googly eyed whenever she saw you. And she had that homework book that was covered in 'Dawn loves Daniel' in little hearts, 'cause she thought none of us would crack her ingenious code. Mind you, it was also covered in 'Dawn loves Xander' and 'Faith rocks, Buffy sucks' so we shouldn't give her too much credit for taste. Not that crushing on Xander is bad taste, but…" she trailed off when Oz gave her nothing but a confused little smile. "A…and we took her to the beach that one time and played Frisbee all afternoon and had the sandy sandwiches…?"

"I can remember the Frisbee and gritty sandwiches," he said. She waited for more and he shook his head slightly. "Sorry, I guess she's slipped my mind. Maybe I only met her on a full moon. Things used to be hazy then sometimes."

"Maybe," Willow said, not convinced. "But you've met her since you've been back. She was the tall brunette who made you a cup of coffee last Wednesday for one. You didn't sorta recognise her then?"

"I thought she was another Slayer."

"Wow." She sat back against the couch. "This is a first."

They'd never met anyone who was in Dawn's fake memories that didn't remember her in real life. She wondered what it meant and whether it was important. She should probably speak to Buffy about it before filling Oz in on everything. Just in case.

"Are you okay?" Oz asked.

She nodded. "So you were saying about the call you got from the wolfy psychologist," she encouraged the topic away from Dawn. "I thought she wanted to be all Miss Independent."

"She still does, but her fiancé wants her to get help."

"Ha! A therapist who needs to get help." She chuckled.

He smiled. "Well, not help with dealing, just building a cage strong enough to hold her around the full moon."

"You must be an expert at that by now. All the different places you've lived."

"I've built a few," he agreed. "But I was thinking that it might be a good idea to…"

He paused, but Willow didn't realise right away. She was looking at her phone again. Wondering whether to call Kennedy and make sure everything was alright. It had to be though, right? Or else _they _would have called. Kennedy and Dawn definitely had cell phones; and Naomi being a Watcher of the Twenty-first century had to have one. So why hadn't they called?

Maybe because nothing had happened; they were just enjoying themselves and had lost track of time? Which meant Kennedy was enjoying herself enough to lose track of the time. Willow wished that didn't bother her so much. Probably if things were better between them, it wouldn't, but things weren't better. They weren't even close and while she thought they were slowly working things out, maybe Kennedy thought differently; and that was why she hadn't called, or texted, or bothered to come home at a reasonable hour tonight – or, lets face it, any night that week!

"Willow?" Oz asked expectantly.

It took a second for her name to filter through and then she looked back at Oz, shaking her head a little as she realised she'd zoned out again.

"Sorry, I really am listening," she lied with an apologetic smile.

He just gave her an intense, almost compassionate look.

"I'm a little distracted," she admitted and was about to tell him why when she changed her mind. Oz didn't want to hear about her relationship worries. "But that doesn't mean I'm not interested, just… distracted. Please, go on."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure I'm distracted? Sure I'm interested? Sure I want you to go on?" she asked with a smile. "Uh huh. We were talking about cages."

"Now that sounds kinky."

Hearing his voice, Willow looked up to see Xander coming back through from the kitchen.

"Where've you been?" she accused.

"Getting snacks, like I said." He put a bowl of corn chips and a bowl of salsa down on the coffee table.

Willow looked at them and then back at him. "You've been gone ages and that's the best you could do?"

"Hey, opening those chip bags takes time, you know!" He grinned as he set three fresh beers down too. "As does peeing, _and_ having an argument with Vi about leaving the bathroom door open while said peeing is taking place."

"Xander!"

"What? I forgot she was up there. I'm not used to having beautiful slayers wandering out of my bedroom in the middle of the night."

He gave Willow's shoulder a gentle push to move her out of his seat. Forgetting it was her seat in the first place she automatically moved into the middle of the couch. He flopped down at the end.

"So what did I miss?" he asked, leaning forward to scoop some salsa up on a tortilla chip.

"Uh, the wolf-lady we met with this afternoon wants a custom-designed cage, and, uh, Oz had some ideas that were, uh, related?" She winced another apology in Oz's direction.

He smiled. "Yeah, that sums it up. Actually it was you I wanted to talk to about this," he said to Xander.

"Talk away," Xander offered, loading up another corn chip.

"Cages."

"Things that have werewolves in!" Xander said with game show flair.

"Exactly." Oz grinned. "I know how to build a solid cage, but I tend to just mash them together out of whatever's already in situ. Like the one I used back in Sunnydale."

"I thought that was a book cage?" Xander said, confused. "Not that I know why books might need to be caged, unless they're magic books, some of those could use some caging."

"The cage in the crypt," Oz explained. "The bars were already there, I just fitted the digital lock. With Willow's help," he added.

"No, you did it all," she praised with a big smile. "I just told you how."

"So where do I come in?" Xander asked.

"I thought maybe we could go into the cage business together. Me and the Council that is. I find the werewolves who need cages and you build them."

Xander chuckled. "What makes you think I can build cages better than you?"

"Buffy implied you could build anything."

"She did?" Xander asked, surprised but pleased. "I think she may have been exaggerating a little."

"Plus, I don't have the resources for a project like this on my own." Oz added.

"Well, it sounds like a great idea, but I can't say yes," Xander reached for his beer.

"Why?" Oz asked as Willow's expression mirrored the question. "If its 'cause you're busy we wouldn't have to start right away, and, going by the rate Willow and I have been finding actual werewolves, it'll probably only be one, maybe two a month."

"No, it's not that. Not that I'm not busy, but with Faith and Andrew helping we're making progress."

"Then what is it?" Willow asked, mystified as to why Xander didn't want to help.

"Oz said it himself. He wants to work with the Council. I'm not Council."

Willow was confused. "Well, if you're not Council, then what are you?"

Xander gave a bitter laugh and drained half of his beer in a couple of swallows. "Not a whole lot."

"Don't be stupid!" Xander looked at her sharply and she met it head on. "You're one of us! And us _is_ the Council now. How can you think you're not a part of it? You're like… on the top level! Remember those guys that were interrogating us back when we were fighting Glory? You're higher up than them!"

"No, I'm not, Will," Xander shook his head, trying to keep a smile on his face. "I'm still one of the gang, sure, but as far as the 'family business' goes I have zero play. I can't make any decisions. I can barely even contribute."

"Of course you contribute," Willow said softly.

"Yeah, I can fix the place up, providing I have a couple of two-eyed helpers to do the dangerous stuff like cut a piece of wood in half!" Xander gave an awkward laugh when Willow simply gaped at him. "Sorry guys, didn't mean to bring the party crashing down. Who's up for a change of subject?"

"No," Willow's voice was quiet but firm. "We need to talk about this."

"No, we really don't."

"Yu-huh, this is obviously something that is seriously bothering you, Xan, a… and I get why, its serious stuff, but you've been holding on to it for way too long."

"It's my stuff, I can hold on to it as long as I want," he tried to say it flippantly, but Willow was seeing through everything now.

"Don't be such a… a boy! You know it helps to talk stuff out. That's why you listened to me jabber on the other week. You _need _to get this off your chest and I'm right here ready to return the favour, so… so jabber!" She insisted, fixing him with a face that brooked no argument.

Xander countered. "Oh yeah, and you and Kennedy have been on the border of Breakupsville ever since we had that talk. That kinda result doesn't convince me it's a good idea."

"Well, no," Willow admitted, shooting Oz a glance. He didn't react in any way. "But regardless of where Ken and I are at now, talking with you helped me sort things out in my head; and that's the first step to sorting it out everywhere else too."

"I've got an idea." Xander reached for the remote on the coffee table. "Let's see if there are any more blood curdling, heart stopping movies on – that'll be way more fun."

Willow snatched the glossy black remote from him before he could un-mute the television. He gave her an annoyed look before slumping back against the couch with his beer.

"Talking can help," Oz spoke softly into the silence. "Sometimes just having the words out there makes it easier to see the solution."

"How would you know?" Xander spat. "I didn't hear you do much talking before you ran away and deserted your friends for years and years."

"Xander!"

"It's okay," Oz murmured. "He does have a point."

"Sorry," Xander gave Oz the briefest of guilty smiles. "Didn't mean to be lashy-outy guy on you. Just feeling a little claustrophobic all of a sudden."

"Literally or figuratively?" Willow asked, worried.

"I don't know, a little of both?" He moved, shifting himself to the arm of the couch where Willow had perched earlier.

She wondered whether to drop this topic for now after all. If it was affecting him physically that might mean his problems were something that ran a lot deeper than she could help with tonight. Perhaps he even needed proper counselling. The doctor who had dealt with his eye in Sunnydale had even suggested it, but Xander had dismissed the idea out of hand and with so much happening at once, Willow had never thought to bring it up again.

She kicked herself for the oversight, and in her guilt, blurted the idea out.

"Do you think you need to go see someone?

"Like a shrink?" His laugh was high-pitched.

"Yes."

"What?" He stared at her in dismay. "No, I don't need to go and see a shrink. I'm not crazy! I just need some time to get my head together…"

"You've had months," she pointed out.

"…Without you hounding me about it all the time!" he finished angrily.

"You're in a bad place, Xander!"

"I know I'm in a bad place," he retorted. "The woman I love died saving _Andrew, _of all people_, _because I couldn't trust my sword skills enough to be there to protect her! Which, believe me, was just the last in a long line of the ways I let her down!"

"Buffy wanted you looking after Dawn," Willow reminded him. "She obviously trusted you're swordsmanship enough."

Xander went on like he hadn't heard. "My parents are MIA. I called Dad and told him to grab Mom and hightail it out of Sunnydale, and his reaction?" Xander made his voice gruff. "'Don't ever think you'll be big enough, smart enough or man enough to tell me what I should do!'. So I don't know whether they left when everyone else did, or if Dad, stubborn as an ass like always, kept the pair of them there to die too."

"Xander," Willow said his name tenderly, putting her hand on his arm.

He shook her off. "And the thing that really grates me? I don't even know how I'm supposed to feel. Am I sorry they might be dead? Why in the hell would I be?" The chokiness of his voice implied that he was.

"You could try calling some family," Oz suggested. "They might know more."

"Why? If they are alive, they're not bothering to look me up, are they?" Xander finished his beer in a couple of glugs and set the empty bottle sharply on the table. "Oh, and this is a good one, I have no job prospects to speak of, ever, thanks to my stupid lack of eye. At the time I thought, hey, whatever, no big deal. I have another one. But it turns out, uh huh, big deal! I can't do jack with one eye except flip burgers or clean toilets for the rest of my life."

"Of course you can," Willow said soothingly. "There's lots of stuff you can do. Fully blind people have lots of interesting jobs so there's no reason you can't with one perfectly good working eye."

"I don't want those jobs, I want _my_ job!" he insisted. "I worked hard to get good at what I do. I don't have any super carpenter powers! What I've achieved came through blood, sweat and lots of black thumb-nails, and for what? No one's going to employ someone who can't even be sure if the spirit level is level or not."

"You have a job here, Xan."

"Yeah, I do," he said, nodding at her, jaw clenched. "And, not meaning to sound ungrateful or anything, but I can now look forward to living out my working days as Giles' glorified handyman."

"Well, as long as you don't _mean_ to sound ungrateful," Willow said pointedly.

"I'm sorry! I can't help it. I used to be a part of things! I used to be one of the gang in more than just name!"

"Huh?" Oz frowned slightly.

"I used to fight demons," Xander explained in only a slightly calmer tone. "Now I have trouble fighting tricky corner tiles!"

"You can still fight," said Willow.

"Yeah, if I'm prepared to live with the constant worry that I'll accidentally poke you or Buffy in the neck instead of the big bad!"

"Well as long as it's only accidentally I'm sure no one will hold it against you."

"Believe me, Oz, I'm trying to see the funny, but it must be on my left," Xander said sullenly. "Face it, for all the good I am now, I might as well have died with Sunnydale."

"Don't ever say that," Willow said sharply, feeling sick at just the thought.

"Well, why not. Spike would be a more helpful member of the Council than I am. I should have worn the big, hellmouth-killing amulet. At least then I'd have gone out with a bang."

"It had to be worn by a champion," Willow reminded.

"Something else I'm not, nor will I ever be." He reached for Willow's untouched beer on the table, but she snatched it away like she had the remote. "You're not drinking it!"

"You've had enough! If you hadn't you wouldn't be talking such garbage."

"It's not garbage, give me the beer."

"No, its mine." Willow started drinking it, determined that there wouldn't be any left for Xander.

He actually started looking a little amused as gulp after gulp disappeared. "You're gonna regret that later."

"Uh, Will." Oz caught her eye, looking concerned he motioned for the bottle.

There was only a dribble in there when she couldn't take anymore. She handed the bottle to Oz.

"I'm not a champion either," she said, panting for breath. "And you don't see me drinking myself sick over it."

Xander raised an eyebrow as she let out a noisy, long belch.

"That was just gas!" she defended herself. "Besides, it had nothing to do with not being a champion. I'm drinking because you're being too hard on yourself!"

"Well, if you're drinking because of that, why can't I?"

"You have a place here, Xander. You have a purpose. And the sooner you realise that, the sooner you can start dealing with everything else that's bothering you."

"You're right."

Willow relaxed slightly at Xander's words, as much as the bottle of gassy beer in her gut would allow anyway. How Xander could drink like that all night every night was beyond her. It wasn't as if she was teetotal, she liked a beer now and again, she'd already had a few tonight, but they'd been drunk for pleasure not for blotting out misery. She burped again, but managed to cover it with her hand this time.

Drinking to cover pain was like doing magic to make up for insecurities – it would just make you do stupid things and feel like crap the next morning. She was about to lay that one on Xander when he started talking again.

"My place here is a result of who I know, not what I can do. I think we're all agreed that the Watchers Council had way too much of that before. If the new Council is going to be as better as Giles hopes, I don't think taking the same wrong paths is a good idea."

"How can you think you're a wrong path?" Willow asked distressed.

"To get to your second point," Xander continued, ignoring her again. "My purpose is to fix the camp up the way Giles wants. I can do that, with help, no problem, but so could any construction-trained chimp."

"Well, you're ahead there at least," Oz smiled. "Not many Chimps in Ohio."

Xander grinned at him, leaning forward to grab some more chips. He dipped them all in the salsa and lifted them to his mouth. Trying hard not to spray crumbs, he said, "Yay, I caughta break."

"You're an idiot!" Willow barked at him, and maybe the beer she'd downed was going to her head, but mostly she was just sick of his attitude. "Forget fixing up the house; well don't forget it obviously, but aside from that you know how important you are. To me, to Buffy, to everyone! How can you downplay your role so much? You're an integral part of the new Council!"

Xander shook his head. "No. You might be, because you're the big camp Wicca woman, and Buffy is because she's all General McSlayer, and Kennedy, because she's Colonel McSlayer and Robin definitely is," his voice turned sour, "because he's all McSon of a Slayer and Mctrained by a Watcher since he was, like, what _Four?"_

Oz made another attempt at lightening the mood. "Is anyone else suddenly craving a Big Mac?"

Willow ignored him. "So because you're not a Witch, or a Slayer, or a… Robin? You're all huffy? Why? You were none of those things before, either."

"We weren't at the beginning of a brave new world then," he pointed out, dipping another handful of chips into the salsa at the same time. If he couldn't comfort drink, he was going to comfort eat, apparently. "Plus, I could do stuff. I used to fill the Scoobies' normal-guy-demon-fighter quota. Now you guys have Robin and he's got bigger muscles than me, has better training than me and all he needs is a cape and tights and he's like the perfect ready-made Watcher. That leaves me all… superfluous, if that means what I think it does. About as useful as tap water in a Vampire lair." He shoved the chips in his mouth and crunched them up.

"You still can do stuff!" Willow yelled at him, her frustration showing. "You know, I'm starting to think you're biggest problem is just jealousy."

"Why? Because you have two eyes, a girlfriend and the world as your oyster, and I don't?" Xander nearly knocked the salsa bowl off the table as he angrily dunked an even bigger handful of chips into it. "Maybe you're right."

Willow shook her head in disgust. "No, because the rest of us have something to offer other than bitterness and resentment, and you don't!"

Xander's mouth, open to receive his chips and dip, slammed into a thin, straight line. He glared daggers at Willow for a never-ending minute, during which Oz cleared his throat but didn't say anything. Willow just held his stare, fire for fire. The salsa coating the bottom ends of four or five chips slowly dripped onto Xander's bare chest.

It was a few seconds before he looked down at it, breaking the deadlock between them, and even when he did it took another second or two for him to comprehend what was causing the cold, sticky sensation. Finally, throwing the drippy chips back into the bowl they'd come from, he shot to his feet, fingers trying to clear up the red, gooey mess dribbling between his nipples.

When he realised it was impossible, he shot Willow one of the nastiest looks she'd ever seen on him.

"Thanks for your understanding, Will. I'm so glad you were there for me." With that, he stormed towards the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Willow called after him, her voice even more distressed than before.

He didn't answer as he pushed through the swing door and Willow's eyes landed on the blob of salsa he'd left on the couch.

"I shouldn't have said that," she whispered painfully to the blob.

"I think he's just going to clean up."

She looked up at Oz, her eyes getting watery. "No, I really shouldn't have said that!"

"He'll be okay," Oz said with a lot of certainty. "Maybe he needed to hear it."

"No." Willow shook her head. "Even if he did, I shouldn't have been the one to say it; and besides, he's can't be jealous, Xander's not like that! Maybe he has some issues, but they're coming from something else, something that's making him act like this. Like his parents not getting in touch with him or…or…"

"Or the loss of an eye," Oz said softly.

"Yes, his eye!" Willow almost wailed. "And there I go being all stompy foot and throwing accusations around!"

As the tears started to fall, Willow tried scooping up the blob of salsa with her fingertips to get it off the couch. Giles would be mad if it was still there in the morning.

"Willow?" When Willow didn't answer him or look up, Oz put his arm around her shoulders. "It'll be okay."

"I have to clean this." Was all Willow could say with the way the tears were catching her breath.

She leaned into Oz's comforting shoulder, but didn't take her attention from the red stain on the couch cushion as she continued to rub at it with her fingers. His consoling warmth could have been anyone's at that point; all she could think about was how to make things right with Xander.

* * *

Giles fumbled for the switch to his bedside lamp and, once he could see to do so, quietly rose from his bed. Although his hair was rumpled and his eyes looked bleary, he hadn't actually been to sleep yet, and he knew he wasn't going to fall asleep after what he had just heard.

Fetching his navy-blue dressing gown from the hook on the back of his door, he pulled it on and then stood in the centre of his room for a moment or two, rubbing at his eyes, before setting about finding his glasses.

The noise from the living room had been keeping him awake all night, not wide awake it was true, but just on the cusp of falling into a much needed deep sleep. He knew he had gone to bed extremely early though, and so had chosen not to complain about the screams from the television or the excited conversation, which to be fair wasn't much more than a murmur through the walls. After all, he had insisted on taking the ground floor bedroom – Xander had warned him at the time that he would probably regret it – but it had the ensuite and was directly adjacent to his office.

However, once it was getting on for one in the morning and the voices started rising, he began to get annoyed. His over-tiredness making him irritable, he was about to get up and give them a stern reprimand when he became aware of the actual conversation they were having.

He had laid still then, in the dark, listening intently to what was rapidly becoming a heated argument in the other room. All of his irritation deflated as heard the quiet desperation in Xander's tone, that over and over he tried to play off, no doubt with a small smile on his face and a cornered look in his remaining eye.

"Oh, Willow," he'd groaned quietly when she suggested therapy.

It wasn't that he didn't agree. In fact he really wished he'd thought of it months ago himself, but if Xander was already feeling trapped by Willow's unremitting concern, she should have known better than to blurt it out in such a manner. Especially in front of a third person. Xander would no doubt see it as a weakness to need any such help, and with a father like his that was unfortunately understandable.

As the argument turned nasty towards the end – with both Willow and Xander hurt and frustrated with the other – he had groaned again, feeling compassion for both of them, but wanting to knock their bloody heads together too.

Glasses on, he ran his hand over his hair, flattening it back down a little and wondered whether to go after Xander. Perhaps, considering that the young man seemed to think that he was now his Lord and Master, he would have better hope of getting through to him. Giles waved that idea away with a flick of his hand and went to sit at the small writing desk against the window. Xander was unlikely to be receptive to anyone tonight now that he was angry, and it would do no good to have him feel like his friends were ganging up on him. Better to wait until the morning when tempers were less flared.

He pulled out his diary and opened it to a page a few weeks prior to the current date to re-read the entry. He kept the book in here because he knew both Willow and Buffy wandered into his office at will to find some paper, or a pen, or, he smirked a little, anything that was left lying around that just happened to accidentally fall open when they turned the page…

The entry was for the day the Watcher cadets had departed, most of it was concerned with Faith's arrival and Craig's little stunt, but he had jotted down some notes on quite a different subject and listening to Xander's complaints about his lack of responsibility here had reminded him of it.

_Buffy said something interesting today. Watchers called to the fight._

_This has happened before of course, not every Watcher is a direct descendant of those that called the original Slayer forth, but from _

_what I have been taught, it is discouraged. Why? Is it simply because secrecy is paramount to this duty, or is there a darker reason? Would _

_an influx of fresh blood into the Council be detrimental to its ultimate _

_goal? (Look up past recruitment drives – if such things existed). _

_Taking the title of Watcher to include someone who not only trains their Slayer, but also looks after their physical and emotional well-being; someone who aides in preparing her for duty and who stands by her side in battle; someone who, either verbally or by their actions, has sworn to do their all to help her in this fight… If that is the true definition of a Watcher, then Buffy Summers has had three of us at once since she was sixteen, sometimes more._

_Is there any harm in merely making it official? _

Giles read the entry a second time and then, taking his glasses off and tapping one of the arms against his bottom lip, he sat back in his chair to think it over.

* * *

"Thank the goddess!" Kennedy breathed as they finally turned onto their long private drive to home.

"Extreme ditto!" Dawn agreed, and then chuckled. "You're even starting to sound like Willow."

Kennedy smirked. "She may have had a certain amount of influence on me."

"Okay, now you've finally admitted you love her, dish the dirt," Dawn chuckled again. "Is she like magic personified in the sack?"

Kennedy pushed Dawn's shoulder playfully. "You can't ask something like that!"

"Why not? I'm not a little kid; I'm only a year younger than you. Besides, I'm not a virgin anymore," Dawn said with pride. "So it's not like I have to be shielded from the big, bad sex."

"You're nearly two years younger than me, and anyway," Kennedy grinned, "it's just not polite."

"You'd tell Buffy or Faith if they asked," Dawn countered.

"They wouldn't ask… okay, maybe Faith would," Kennedy conceded.

"I thought we were best friends, this is the sort of thing best friends ask each other, right?" Dawn pushed. "Fen would tell me."

Kennedy rolled her eyes. "Let's cut to the chase. You want me to ask you what Reece is like, right?"

"No!" Dawn said quickly, acutely embarrassed.

"So this isn't you wanting to discuss your first time with someone who isn't a Junior or your sister?"

They walked in almost silence until Dawn timidly muttered, "Maybe… a little."

"So what was it like?"

The topic couldn't be further from the one Kennedy wanted to think about right now, but they'd been talking about Willow most of the way home. She owed it to Dawn to listen for at least a minute.

"It was good," Dawn said quietly. "Better than what I'd been told to expect, but…"

"But?" Kennedy echoed.

"That's not really what I want to talk about. The thing is we haven't done it since and… and I don't know if that's weird or not."

"Do you want to do it again?"

"Yes! I mean… you know, I wouldn't mind."

"And does he?"

Dawn shrugged. "He said after the first time we went too fast too soon and we should slow it down, you know, for a while."

Kennedy nodded. "Sounds like the first thing he's ever said that I can respect."

"And I totally respect it too," Dawn said quickly. "I mean, I know he's got important responsibilities here and he can't just flout them to spend time with me. And what are Buffy and Giles gonna think of him if he neglects Rona because we're off doing… something."

"Were those his actual reasons?" Kennedy asked, having a bad feeling.

"Not exactly," Dawn lied. "It's just… I think he still likes me 'cause we still kiss and stuff, and he came to the party with me tonight and was the perfect date, right up until he disappeared for half an hour and I found him on the bed with you anyway."

"Dawn." Kennedy rolled her eyes.

"I know you weren't doing anything!" Dawn insisted strongly. "I didn't even really think it at the time, but… I guess I was jealous, because he was with you and not me. I do realise how pathetic that sounds, trust me, but I couldn't help it."

"It's okay."

They were only a few minutes from the house now; it was going to come into view once they got past the next tree. She didn't want to desert Dawn, but she needed to wrap this up fast because as soon as they hit the front door she was heading off to find Willow.

"You want my honest thoughts?" she asked.

"Yeah," Dawn nodded nervously.

Kennedy took a deep breath. "The slower Reece wants to take it, the better for you. I know you like him a lot, and maybe that's because he's showing you a side of him he isn't bothering to show the rest of us. Who knows? Before tonight I thought he was a waste of space, but now… now I just think he's got some of his priorities really wrong, you included. Maybe he'll fix that, maybe he won't, but if you want my advice…" Kennedy took another deep breath, knowing Buffy would probably kick her ass for what she was about to say next. "He's a hottie, if you like that sort of thing, and you guys seem to have fun together. So enjoy it while it lasts, but don't go planning your wedding or, you know, your six month anniversary."

Dawn fell quiet and the house came into view. Kennedy could see lights on in the living room, Giles bedroom and Xander's bedroom upstairs. She wondered if Willow was still up, and if so, what room she was in.

What did Willow think about her being out so late? Was she pissed off? Had she gone to sleep already and didn't even know she wasn't back yet? Or had she not even come back yet herself? It had seemed like a good idea earlier to go out before Willow got home, now Kennedy wasn't so sure.

"Do you really think we're that doomed?" Dawn suddenly asked as they walked towards the porch.

Kennedy thought about ignoring the question and just sprinting for the house. She had her own problems to deal with right now, but with a sigh, she answered.

"I think considering what you've told me, he's either got a lot of respect for you and wants to build something that lasts, or… he's a player, and right now he's just keeping you sweet to keep you on tap."

Dawn gasped at her blunt words.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Kennedy said sincerely.

"I know," Dawn whispered. "So which do you think it is?"

"I already gave you my advice; and if you want to talk more tomorrow, we can, but right now…" Kennedy's sentence petered out with uncharacteristic nervousness.

The front door was a hundred feet away. She unconsciously rolled her shoulders a few times and her fists balled, released, balled, released.

"Willow." Dawn nodded, putting her own problems to one side. "What are you going to do?"

"Whatever it takes," Kennedy replied shortly; her palms were sweating slightly even in the cool night air.

"What does that mean?"

"It means I'll fight for her tooth and nail if I have to. I'm not taking this shit lying down anymore. I love Willow and its past time I showed her. And if anyone wants to take her away from me, they're going to shed some blood trying."

"Yay, you." Dawn chuckled. "I'm gonna go to the boy's dorm, make sure Reece and Craig got back okay."

"Yeah, sure," Kennedy grinned at her.

"I am!" Dawn grinned back as she started walking away.

Kennedy smiled, pleased that her and Dawn were in tune again. It had been a lonely couple of weeks without her. Taking yet another deep breath and maintaining her smile, although now it was a lot nervous, she put her hand out to open the front door, ready to go and confront Willow.

"Maybe…" she retracted her hand slowly. "Maybe I should think about what I'm going to say first," she whispered to herself. "I haven't made the best impression recently, as everyone keeps pointing out, and so if this is my last chance, I better make sure I don't blow it by going in unprepared."

She backed down the porch steps, knowing but not acknowledging that there was as much fear as common sense guiding her feet.

"I could take her some flowers too, that would be romantic; and romantic couldn't hurt right now."

She looked around the dark front lawn, but couldn't see any, so slowly, eyes scanning all directions; she walked all the way around to the back garden. And still couldn't see any.

"Okay, I could take her a watering can instead," she said wryly when it was the only object she spotted in the light from the kitchen. "I could say it's like a symbol for the effort I intend to put into our beautiful, flowering love…" She laughed. "I'm gonna have to do better than that."

Now she came to think of it, the metal watering can looked vaguely… familiar? She picked it up for a closer inspection and something clanged in the bottom. Looking through the black hole at the top revealed nothing but thick darkness cloaking whatever was rattling around inside. She went to reach her hand in, but a vivid image of a little purple being leaving teeth marks in her finger curbed that impulse and she swiftly turned the can upside down instead.

A full, capped bottle of beer rolled out and bounced harmless on the grass.

"That looks familiar too," she mused suspiciously, nudging it with her toe before picking it up.

She set the bottle on top of the picnic table and sat on the bench. "So, Willow, where do I start?"

The smell from the ashtray made it hard to give the important question due consideration, so wrinkling her nose she pushed it to the far end of the table away from her. Reece and Faith were only allowed it there if they emptied and rinsed it every night, but obviously no one had bothered yet today, maybe because neither of them were back yet. As she leaned across the table, she swung her legs under the bench and heard a chink-chink noise as something hidden in the dark shadow of the wooden leg fell over.

Reaching her arm down and fumbling in the dark until her fingers touched another ice cold bottle, she picked it up and set it on the table top next to the other one with less and less surprise. She gave them both a long look.

"Was I really that drunk earlier?" She wondered aloud. "Or have I stumbled into someone else's alcoholic treasure hunt?"

Not really caring either way, she forgot about the beers and leaned back on the bench to look up at the moon.

"Willow, Willow on the wall… okay that doesn't even make sense. Willow, the only reason I've been acting this way is because I love… nope, that makes me sound like a wife beater… Hmm, wife? I wonder if… I mean, at least then she'd know how serious I was about her and… Hey, that's a great idea, why don't I mend our crappy relationship by asking her to marry me?" Kennedy's forehead landed on the table top with a soft thunk of despair. "And then what? The next time an ex shows up I pretend I'm pregnant?"

Both bottles nearly toppled but she brought her hands up fast enough to catch them and kept them in her fists as she sat up again. "Does that count as proactive? I'm supposed to be being myself again," she reminded herself. "Playing to my strengths and stuff. So, in this situation, What Would Kennedy Do?" She grinned. "She'd go in there and sweep her off her feet – which I could do literally now – and kiss her so damn good she can't pronounce Osborne's name let alone remember who he is."

Slowly, her grin dropped away and she sighed. "So if that's what I'd do, why can't I just go and do it?"

But she knew why? What if it didn't work? What if she swept as hard as she could and kissed as good as she could and it wasn't enough? Because if that was all she had to offer and it didn't work, well then it was all over, wasn't it?

"Something better then. Something… smart." She lifted a bottle up to eye level. "You got any pearls of wisdom you'd like to share?"

The bottle seemed to say 'Yes! But you have to open me to let them out', or at least, Kennedy was going to pretend it did as she twisted the cap and sipped some slowly.

"Inspiration and Dutch courage all in one handy package; it would be wrong not to take this opportunity, especially as I obviously went to so much trouble to hide them in the first place," she muttered.

Okay, so that was a bogus excuse for staying out in the chilly garden drinking beer, but it was better than admitting that she was terrified that Willow would tell her it was too late, that'd she'd been acting like an jerk for too long, that they were done, over, finished and other words that made the usually self-confident Slayer want to cry like a baby.

"One won't hurt and it might even dull the pain if she tells me to go to hell." Even joking to herself about it hurt and she dropped her sad gaze to the table top. "Oh God, how do I make her not want to do that?"

"Well, it's an out there suggestion, I grant you, but you could start by actually talking to her."

Kennedy looked up to see Xander standing outside the training barn.

"Hey what were you doing in there at this time of night?" she asked, the speed of her voice echoing the fact that's she'd been take by surprise.

"Other than listening to you to talk to yourself?" He smiled, but even in the dark it looked like an effort. "It's a good, well-lit space and I don't have a workshop yet."

Kennedy didn't usually pry into Xander's life, she wasn't much of a pryer in general, but that had been an extremely vague answer for this time of the morning.

"So you're working on something?" she asked. "This late? In your underwear?"

He seemed to realise his undressed state as she mentioned it and covered his chest with his arms. "Uh, not exactly. I was just…"

When he looked stumped for an answer, her eyes narrowed playfully. "Have you been in there reading my Playboys?"

"What? No! No. You have Playboys in there?" Xander looked behind him to the training barn with a hopeful look in his eye. He shook it away as he turned back to her. "Impressionable young minds use that barn!"

"Yeah, straight, impressionable young minds," she replied. "I don't think any of the girls are gonna start having dark fantasies because they come across a magazine full of naked breasts."

"Not even Andrew, Reece and Craig?" Xander asked pointedly, and then after a pause, added, "Or, you know, just Reece?"

"You really think Reece doesn't already have a few Playboys of his own stashed in his little locker?" Kennedy smirked.

Xander shrugged. "You may be right." He walked closer to the bench. "Is it wrong that I hate that guy so much?"

Kennedy shrugged. "Anyway, why are you out here in your underwear?"

"I had to leave the party pretty abruptly. And I think I've just solved the case of the mysteriously disappearing beer." He nodded at the bottle in her hand.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, and, uh, thanks," she said awkwardly, tipping the bottle in her hand towards him. "Next case, my round… or something." She picked up the unopened bottle on the table and held it out to him. "I saved you one."

"Yeah right," he smirked and sat down opposite her as he took the bottle. "So, you were talking about Willow?"

The bottle stopped halfway to her lips. "I was?"

"With yourself." He chuckled as he opened his own beer.

"Oh, yeah." She smiled self-consciously. "I was trying to decide if I'd blown it."

"Do you think you have?"

"I don't know, do you?" she countered.

Xander shrugged. "What would you do if you have?"

Kennedy thought for a second, but she didn't really have to. "Lose it."

"Well, that's an incentive." Xander smiled. "So I take it you're not ready to give up on the Willster?"

"No way," Kennedy said sincerely. "It's just… I've been bad attitude girl a lot recently, and for some reason she's been putting up with it. And I can't help wondering if maybe she's already broken up with me in her head, but just can't be bothered to do it in real life. Maybe she thinks I've already drifted off so far that she doesn't need to say the actual words and we're only still sharing a bed because I've been too stupid to move out of it yet."

"Nah." Xander shook his head. "Willow's a lot of great things, but subtle isn't one of them right now," he finished a little bitterly.

"So you think if she wanted me gone, I'd be gone?" she asked.

"I do." He nodded. "But that doesn't mean Bad Attitude Girl hasn't hurt her. A lot."

"I know," she muttered, looking at her beer. When she looked him in the eye again she felt a little defiant "But I've only been acting this way because she hurt me!"

"I get that," he said emphatically. "But… are you ready to put it behind you?"

She looked down at the table top as she argued with herself. Yes she was, no she wasn't. She was still hurt; there were still things she didn't understand, but it all boiled down to one thing in the end.

"I don't know what it is yet, but if there is something I can do to make things right, I'll do it. Because…" She met his eye steadily "…because I love her.

Xander's tense expression relaxed into a sincere smile. "Well then, why don't we talk it out while you finish your drink? And then you can go in and wow her with your multitude of reasons for staying together."

"Sure you wanna listen to my shit?" Kennedy asked doubtfully, but with hope in her voice.

"Always," he promised, his smile even stronger as he tapped the neck of his bottle against her's.

Kennedy smirked. "Okay, well, you asked for it…"


	21. Act 4:8

Thank you everyone who reviewed. You made my day. I was really trying to get this finished for tonight. It would have been nice to get the last of it posted on Halloween, seeing as this is a Halloween episode, but I've run out of time and awakeness. So here is the penultimate piece for you to enjoy while eating your trick or treating candy, and at some point over the weekend I'll post the ending. Thanks for reading.

* * *

The television in the living room was showing some old horror film now. A distraught woman was crying in black and white, mirroring Willow's actions and mood.

"Xander'll be alright," Oz promised, stroking his fingers through Willow's hair again. "He knows you're trying to help. You just gave him a lot to think about."

"You think?" Willow sniffed, wiping her hands under her eyes to catch the last of her tears. "I don't know. Everything's just such a mess since we moved here."

"How so?" Oz asked gently.

"Well, you know about Xander's perpetual black cloud." Willow took a second to catch her breath from the cryingwhile she thought about everything else that was wrong lately. "Buffy's completely obsessed with Faith, which, hello? Twilight Zone stuff right there. I haveno problem with Buffy grazing on my side of the fence for a while, 'cause lets face it, her taste in men wasn't doing the world any favours, but why did her predilection for mysterious bad boys – and by 'bad' I really mean 'kinda evil' – have to transfer so seamlessly over to women? Why couldn't she have fallen for a nice female Riley? And I know I should just be happy that she's happy, even if it is strange, and I am… mostly… I just can't help worrying that something's going to go wrong like usually happens when one of us falls in love, you know? And with Faith involved… wrong is gonna be a big, fat understatement. I'm talking Angelus-big, but with slayer strength, a history of psychosis, and without any of the handy vampiric drawbacks, like an inability to walk around in the day and the need for an invite to murder us all in our beds."

"You've put a lot of thought into it," Oz smiled.

"No, that was just off the top of my head." Willow said with a strained smile. "I could come up with a lot more reasons for why Buffy and Faith getting involved is a disaster brewing if I sat down and wrote a list, but I'm resisting that urge 'cause there's no point panicking myself over it."

She sniffed again and wished she had a tissue in her pocket, except she didn't even have pockets; there wasn't really enough material in her skimpy little pajamas to include a pocket. Oz had pumpkins on his boxer shorts which made her smile a little. She hadn't noticed before, had deliberately avoided noticing maybe. It was hard to miss the small, plump orange fruits now though with the way her head was resting against his shoulder.

She was about to ask him if he had worn them especially for the underwear party, but then realised that Xander hadn't exactly sent out invitations statinga dress code… and why was she admiring his underwear anyway?

She snapped her eyes away and shifted so she wasn't quite so snuggled into his chest. To cover her awkwardness she began to talk faster.

"Dawn and Andrew are both having intimate relations with Watcher kids, although I don't know how intimate Andrew's relations are exactly and I guess Craig isn't really a Watcher kid either… I don't really know what he is, but he has raw power, no discipline and a big old grudge against Buffy. Dawn's relations are way, way too intimate and Reece is… not near good enough for her. He's not good enough for anyone. And as much as I'd like to bury my head in the sand and say 'Hah, not my sister!' I can't, you know, 'cause it's Dawnie a… and she is like my sister. And then there's everyone else! Naomi, Alison, Robin…! Every day some new Slayer or Watcher or… or Ex-Scooby…" she made a pointy gesture at Oz as evidence. "…shows up! Don't get me wrong, in some ways its great. Only child here, I always used to fantasize about being part of a big family, but this craziness is startingto stretch that fantasy to its limit and Giles, who's supposed to be runningthe show by the way, is never here because he's always flitting off around the world finding Slayers and liasing with far-flung Watchers. Or he's in England asking retired Council members who used to look down their runny British noses at him for advice."

"Hey, Will," Oz spoke soothingly, tightening his arm around just for a moment in a comforting squeeze. "Relax. You're getting yourself worked up trying to help everyone else. Take a moment to concentrate on you for a change."

Oh boy, was he going to regret that. Willow didn't even haveto think before beginning.

"Well, where would you like me to start? I still can't get into the Swiss bank accounts and Giles' personal investments are only goingto last for so long with this many mouths to feed plus all the travelling. One of my best friends is dating someone who tried to kill us all – which I suppose isn't new – but my other best friend is wallowing in the depths of despair – and that is new, I'm not used to Xander being so miserable or the time and its horrible. And then there's me thinkingI was all super-control gal now, but then a couple of weeks ago I just start flingingmagic at my friends like its confetti! So now I'm back to square one with my rehabilitation, well, okay, maybe not square one, maybe square four or something, but now I have to double-think _every_ spell I use again and if it feels too easy I have to _not_ use it! But then I can't do spells that might be hard either in case they stir up too much power in me and I melt more speakers without thinking!" Her voice rose a few pitches as her distress grew. "And the one person who… who I thought I could count on, who told me she'd be there to… to help keep me grounded a… and remind me why we're living in the middle of a whole bunch of nowhere when we run out of milk and I want cereal and the big picture seems really, really tiny and far away and just to, ya know, _be there, _has suddenly gone off me with no warning – and I know she told me she used to play the field rather than, uh, stay in one place in the field, but we were getting on so great. I guess I thought she really liked me. Stupid, huh? Now she's probably only still with me because she's scared I'll… I'll _melt her_ if she ends it!"

Despite her best efforts and much screwing up of her face, a sob broke through Willow's defences and on the tail of the first came a whole squadron. She raised her hands to her face as tears soaked her only just dry again cheeks, muttering apologies for being a mess.

Oz hugged her tighter and let her sniffle into his chest.

* * *

Standing on the porch once more, Kennedy gave herself a little shake as if limbering up. She pulled on the hem of her shirt to make sure it was neat and ran her hands through her hair, pulling it forward over her shoulders only to push it immediately back again so that it hung down her back. She looked around the bare porch one last time, half-hoping to spot yet another distraction that would keep her from going in, but she didn't really need it, she knew it was time. She was ready.

Talking with Xander had helped a lot – Reece and Dawn had too, in their own ways, but neither of them had the insight or experience where Willow was concerned that Xander had. He even knew her better than Buffy did.

He hadn't promised her a Willow garden, admitting he wasn't sure where Willow was on this whole thing anymore, and warned her that she wasn't in the best of moods right now. But he'd also told her that Willow had come home eager for a date with Kennedy, that she spent almost as much time watching the clock as she had the TV and, as was apparently her wont, was turning her misery outwards, choosing to turn its focus on him instead of what was really bothering her.

His advice had been pretty simple really, the kind where you go 'Oh, why didn't I think of that!'.

Tell her the truth. Tell her you were jealous. Tell her why. The alternative? Making up a bunch of excuses for your behaviour? That's just gonna cause you more problems – _maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon_… If you really love her, let her see what's in your heart; and if I know Will at all, she'll probably respond by showing you what's in hers.

When she asked what to do if she didn't happen to be in Willow's heart, he hadn't had an answer, just a strange enigmatic look in his eye, which could have been more to do the fact he was shivering to death in the crisp October breeze than any real intuition.

"Hey a flower… I think." The small circular lamp set into the roof of the porch cast only a murky light in the dark recesses either side of the steps. Kennedy bent over double to peer at the leafy blob in the corner. "Well, it has a flower."

Deciding not to look this exotic bloom in its gift-horse mouth, Kennedy picked up the pot plant and straightened up again. Forcing a casual smile on her face, she finally pushed the front door open and entered.

The TV flickered silently in the candlelit living room and she didn't pause to give herself time to chicken out, repeating in her mind, '_I love her, she's worth this, she's worth everything, I can do this…for her, for us, for the sake of mankind! Okay, maybe not mankind… great, I'm babbling already and I haven't even opened my mouth yet._'

Kennedy's foot kicked something heavy but yielding as she walked deeper into the living room. It was a pair of men's jeans dropped carelessly to the side of the couch.

"Couldn't Xander at least…" she began softly, kicking them to the side as she looked up again.

The rest of the sentence choked her as she stared at the two figures on the couch in shock. Her lips shaped the word 'what?' but it never came out. She'd been right, dammit. She knew she'd been right, why had she let everyone else fill her head with false hope?

"Kennedy!" Willow sat forward the moment she registered Kennedy's presence in the room.

She sounded surprised – _probably hadn't expected to get caught_ – but not real distressed – _probably didn't care that she had been caught_. Her cheeks glistened with moisture – _perspiration? Saliva? Tears? Was he really so special just having him close was enough to make her cry?_ The thought was enough to bring tears to her own shocked eyes. This wasn't happening. Of course it was happening. What else had she expected to happen? Girls broke your heart given half a chance, she should know, she'd broken enough since puberty. She'd just never really expected it to happen to her.

"Kennedy?" Willow said with more urgency into the suffocating silence.

Oz remained lounged against the couch, one possessive hand still on the witch's shoulder.

"I'm a walking cliché," she muttered indistinctly.

"You're a what?" Willow frowned and smiled at the same time.

No, no she wasn't. She wouldn't be. This wasn't going to happen to her. She wasn't going out like that. If this ended tonight… if she couldn't win this… she was doing the damn ending!

"Get your hand off of her!" she snarled out, taking a controlled step closer to the couch, eyes glaring into his.

"Sorry?" Oz looked up at her innocently, his hand staying where it was.

"Get your filthy paw offa my girlfriend!" Kennedy ground out. "Or I will tear it off."

"Kennedy!" Willow jumped to her feet – at least solving the hand on her shoulder problem. "What's gotten into you?"

"I'm really more interested in what's gotteninto you."

She missed the gaping brought on by Willow's annoyed embarrassment because her eyes were still burning into Oz. He didn't smile smugly liked she'd imagined, he just held her gaze impassively, like he was some kind of noble champion and didn't feel the need to rub his victory in her face.

"Just what are you insinuating?" Willow demanded, crossing her arms angrily. "Storming in here, issuing threats to my friends, carrying a… _my only _Purple Spear plant?"

"What am I insinuating? You have to ask? Look at the two of you? All cosy on the couch with romantic candles and nakedness…"

"This is nothing! We were just talking," Willow insisted. "And I'm not naked!"

"Not yet," Kennedy agreed furiously. "I guess I got home just in time."

Willow snorted, "Yeah, just in time to overreact over nothing. You have impeccable timing every time as far as that's concerned."

"This is nothing?" Kennedy waved her hand between their two half naked bodies incredulously. "I'm not stupid, Willow. I can see what's going on…"

"You can't see anything but what you want to see," Willow countered. "And I'm getting sick of it."

Kennedy partly recoiled from that, lifting her head to the ceiling as she felt tears prick the backs of her eyes again.

"This is priceless. You're painting me as the bad girlfriend, when you're the one screwing around behind _my_ back?"

"I am not!"

"Why don't we calm down a little?" Oz stood up suddenly, one hand on Willow's shoulder the other out in a placating gesture to Kennedy.

"I warned you about that hand," Kennedy said, taking a threatening step closer.

Oz removed his hand slowly and held that one up too. "You're upset, so just take a moment to…"

"Oh, I'm gonna take a moment," Kennedy promised him. "That's all I need to kick your tramp ass. So you might wanna stop trying to be a mediator and start making your way to the door…"

"I'm not leaving Willow when you're like this," he interrupted softly.

"Why? Do you think this is your night? I get Willow mad and you swoop in with your 'I would never treat you like this' speech?"

"No." Willow was shaking her head. "He's not like that."

Oz held Kennedy's gaze steadily. "If I did give that speech, I wouldn't be lying. But then I wouldn't treat a dog the way you've been treating Willow recently."

"Don't think you know anything about me and Willow!" She warned him a low voice.

He gave a slight shrug and said mildly, "I know from the way you've been acting you're not good enough for her."

Willow turned to him in surprise, which doubled when he suddenly did an assisted backward somersault over the couch. "Kennedy!"

"He had it coming," she said without apology. "And when he gets up, he has more coming. I knew he was sniffing around for more than just 'friend's reunited', I was just really hoping you didn't feel the same."

"You make me sound like a tree!" Willow snapped, before muttering, "Not that my parents didn't manage that already. And who says…"

She was cut off by a growl from behind the couch and spun to face it. "Uh oh."

Kennedy silently echoed that sentiment as a monstrous shadow reared on the bookcase behind the couch. As the growling grew louder and clearer, a werewolf popped up, but the uneasiness only lasted for a second before she grinned in feral glee.

"This…" she pointed. "This is what you're cheating on me with?"

"I'm not cheating on you!"

"Not anymore," Kennedy agreed through gritted teeth as she crouched ready. "Come on, Fido; time for the slipper-ing of your life!"

With almost a roar, Oz pounced straight over the couch towards her.

"Oh yeah, you're so civilised now," she taunted him as she swung her body to the left and brought her right arm up to slam a punch into the side of his belly.

It wasn't as soft and vulnerable as she'd been hoping, but it did stop him from landing right on top of her. Still, she couldn't help herself from being dragged down with him as his weight hit her arm before she could retract it. She landed on her side and immediately kicked out her foot and… yep, that pissed him off!

"Kenny! Don't fight. Run!" Willow yelled at her as the werewolf pounced again and she met it head on, or actually foot on. "Oh Goddess! Oz, if you do have any control right now, please use it to not bite her!"

The snarling, cursing and yelling didn't go unnoticed for long and as Kennedy and Oz crashed down together on top of the coffee table – crushingit and everything on it completely thanks to Oz's wolfy bulk – Giles flew out of his bedroom door.

"What on earth… Oh my Lord! Is that Oz? Quick Willow, don't stand there, get the tranquilliser gun."

"Don't you dare!" Kennedy yelled out.

"Why ever not?" Giles asked, bewildered.

She didn't answer, too busy fighting for her life maybe, but he wasn't getting out of this that easy. She was dominating this mutt the old fashioned way, by whipping his ass until he submitted at her feet. Maybe then he'd accept she was the better person for Willow.

Xandercame running in from the kitchen. "What's all the… whoa! What the hell? Why's Oz goingWhite Fang on Kennedy's ass and, more importantly, why's no one stopping it?"

"We are," Giles said firmly and tried to make his way towards the front door to get the gun, only to have to jump back when the fighting pair nearly rolled into his legs.

"No!" Kennedy yelled again, and she felt like she was finally getting the upper hand but then Oz slipped to the side of her and his jaws were coming for her shoulder and she wasn't gonna be able to… shit!

And then Willow darted forward and kicked his nose as hard as she could, making him jerk his head back and yelp. Kennedy took the split-second advantage and slammed one hand under his chin, keeping his head back while she punched him in the throat with her other hand.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow!" Willow hopped backwards holding her bare toes in pain.

Giles and Xanderwere both moving to get the gun now, but Vi suddenly appeared at the bend in the stairs.

"What's all the noise about? Goorzie's going… Kennedy!" Vi vaulted the banisters to land by the front door and grabbed the tranquilliser gun from the hat stand. "Where are the darts?" she yelled as she came running into the living room.

"There should be one in it," Giles said hopefully.

Vi raised the stock to her shoulder, trying to aim for a patch of werewolf that wasn't too close to a patch of Kennedy.

Goorzarhad come tumbling down the stairs after Vi, sensing Kennedy was home and would protect her from the mysterious menace she could feel in the house. Her orange eyes went big and round when she saw her Mommy being attacked by said menace and she started shrieking at the top of her lungs. By turns, being courageous enough to run in and slap her big hands down on Oz's back, and petrified enough to run into the shadows gibbering.

"Could someone get the lights?" Vi yelled.

Xander did so, but even the room being bright didn't stop Vi's first shot from going wide and thunking into the remains of the coffee table.

"Damn!" she shouted, annoyed with herself. "Where are the rest of the darts?"

"I'll get 'em." Xander ran back into the kitchen.

As Goorzar ran in for another swipe with her long arms, Oz snapped at her before she could get out of range. The baby demon ran away squealing with a bald patch on her ass. Seeingthe black, matted hair caught in the werewolf's teeth, Kennedy gave a cry of rage and grabbed one his front legs in both hands, wrenchinghim around with it. There was a crack as a bone broke and Oz's sharp yelp was followed by Kennedy's scream as his back claws lashed out and raked down her left leg, shredding her jeans, and by the feel of it, the skin beneath as well. Still they didn't stop fighting.

"Enough!" Willow yelled. "You're gonna kill each other!"

No they weren't; 'cause Kennedy planned on breaking his other three legs before that could happen.

"I said ENOUGH!"

Kennedy suddenly found herself flying through the air, straight over the leather reading chair in the corner, and smacking into the wall of Giles' office. She slid down it, knocking over – and becoming tangled up with – reading lamp as she hit the carpet. Through dazed eyes she vaguely recognised the werewolf being thrown just as easily in the opposite direction to hit the wall between the window and the front door.

Xander came back into the room and threw a dart to Vi, who inserted it swiftly, turned and shot Oz in the chest before he could get up again. He growled at her softly for a few seconds and then with a whimper he slumped over, asleep.

The room was silent as everyone took a moment to catch their breath, except for Goorzar's soft gibbering as she ran over to Kennedy, scared out of her wits, and climbed onto her for a comfort cuddle.

"Easy, baby," Kennedy said softly, wincing slightly as the baby demon aggravated her millions of cuts and bruises.

With a hand on her rump, she kept Goorzar away from her bleedingleft leg as she gave her the cuddle she was after, burying her face in the thick black fur as she waited for her heartbeat to slow down.

"What in God's name happened out here?" Giles finally exploded at Willow.

"Hey! Don't blame me. I'm as angry as you are." She turned to Kennedy in the corner. "What the hell was that all about?"

"You know exactly what it was about," Kennedy shot back as she finished checking the bald patch on Goorzar's butt to make sure the skin hadn't been broken. "I came in here to tell you I love you and find you making out on the couch with him!"

"Uh, the werewolf?" Vi asked as she came over to help Kennedy, who was struggling to stand up.

"For the last time, we were not making out. I was upset because I'd had an argument with Xander and Oz was just being a good friend and comforting me!"

Kennedy looked to Xander for confirmation.

He held his hands up. "Don't look at me, I mean yeah, we argued, but I was outside with you while this…comforting… was going on."

You don't believe me either?" Willow turned angrily to her best friend.

"I never said that." He shrugged.

"He's after you, Willow!" Kennedy said frustrated. "Any idiot can see that!"

"No, any idiot might think that, but I'm not an idiot and I know he's not!"

"Are you calling me an idiot?" Kennedy thrust a protesting Goorzarat Vi, who had to struggle to keep hold of the wriggling baby, and limped forward.

"You just got into a jealous brawl with a werewolf. Yes; I think you're an idiot! He could have infected you, he nearly did! Or, you know, killed you completely. Didn't you even think of that?"

"What I thought was that the bastard was trying to take you away from me, and I wasn't giving you up without a fight!"

Willow threw her hands up in frustration. "He's not trying to…"

"Yeah, Will, he is," Xander suddenly interjected.

She turned to him. "What?"

"I don't know if he's _actively trying _or anything, but I think it's safe to say that if an opportunity arose he'd want to take it. I'm not saying he would," he gave Kennedy a quick look before turning back to Willow, "but yeah, he'd want to."

"But why?" she whispered.

She turned to look at Oz, who without the pull of the full moon had already reverted back to his human self now he was unconscious. Giles was just coveringhim with a blanket and examininghis broken arm. With an uncertain glance in Kennedy's direction, she turned and walked away, slamming straight armed through the kitchen door and disappearing.

"What am I supposed to make of that?" Kennedy asked, gesturing after her.

"I don't know, but would you either take Goorzie back or, uh, go away, because she won't settle with me while she can see you," Vi said, as the demon made another attempt at leaping from her to Kennedy.

"Go after her," Xander shrugged, already picking up chunks of coffee table fire wood. "Here what she has to say."

Kennedy leaned down to Goorzar and gave her a kiss between her wide-set orange eyes. "Back soon, girl," she promised and made sure Vi had a good grip on her before limping into the kitchen.

Willow was leaning over the sink, blowing chunks by the sounds of it.

"You okay?" Kennedy asked her from just inside the door way.

"Beer and magic don't mix," Willow muttered, spitting once more before rinsing her mouth with water from the tap.

"Maybe you shouldn't have thrown me into a wall then?"

Willow nodded and said sarcastically. "Good idea, next time I'll just watch you get torn apart before my very eyes."

"That wasn't gonna happen," she scoffed.

Willow spun around to face her. "That was exactly what was going to happen. He's a werewolf, Kennedy! He has more strength than you, bigger teeth than you, long sharp claws, and no problem ripping you into bite size pieces with them!"

Kennedy looked down at her leg. The blood was drying now, so hopefully that meant the bleeding had stopped. It still hurt a lot though and she wasn't looking forward to peeling her jeans off.

"Okay, it was a stupid thing to do," she admitted softly, meeting Willow's eyes as she looked up. "But I'd still do it again. I'd fight something with twice as many teeth and claws… for you."

Willow rolled her eyes, not moved by her words. "You didn't have to fight for me! You could have just talked to me, but no… you had to go and be all Possessive Slayer on me. Fists first, think later. Did you think it would impress me? Is that it?"

For once Kennedy didn't have a quick answer. "I…"

"Because what it did was terrify me. I get scared every time you go out on patrol in case you don't come back, but I get its your duty and your passion for it i…is one of the things I love the most about you, so I can deal… but what you pulled in there wasn't duty, it was stupidity. And if that kind of crap is what I can expect on a regular basis if we stay together… I can't deal."

Angrily Kennedy stormed, well limp-stormed, to the refrigerator and yanked it open. "Well if you can't deal with me fighting to keep my girlfriend, then maybe you should be with Oz, because at least you can count on him to run away instead when its gets tough to be with you."

"That's not fair," Willow snapped.

Kennedy pulled out an ice pack from the freezer compartment and a beer from the shelf below. "I don't have to be fair to him."

"I wasn't talking about him. I was talking about me, us. You think I've been tough to live with these past few weeks? Try being in my place. You've been Miss Moody-two-shoes since the lust spell. You've been cold and distant one minute, a…and fake sweetener and artificial light the next. You don't want to work with me, or eat with me, or _sleep_ with me. You go out every evening and never come back before midnight..."

"I've been doing that since we've been living here," Kennedy pointed out, twisting the cap off of her bottle before reaching awkwardly around to hold the ice pack to the base of her neck.

"Yeah, but you're not patrolling now. You're just going out, enjoying yourself. And I lay in our bed on my own every night wondering if tomorrow will be the day you give me my marching orders."

"Is that what you want? For me to tell you we're through? So you can run off and be with someone else guilt-free?" Kennedy took an angry swig of her beer to cover the quiver of her lip.

"Right now Ken, I wouldn't feel a whole lot of guilt over breaking up with you," Willow retorted. "Not when you're being a bigger brat than you ever gave yourself credit for."

Kennedy's jaw worked in small circles and she had to take another sip of her beer before she could speak. "Well, why don't you then?"

"Because that's not what I want!" Willow shouted. "I don't want to break up with you, I never have, but I don't see a lot of point in us staying together if this is what we're gonna be like all the time."

"Who says it's gonna be like this all the time?" Kennedy asked defiantly.

"Okay, so tell me what's going to change? Are you going to stop being so jealous? Because I can't handle another episode like tonight. I've lost one woman I love to a senseless act of violence, I'm not gonna hang around if it's likely to happen again."

"You want me to stop being jealous, tell Oz to go to hell," Kennedy said simply. "Problem solved."

"I can't do that, and I won't do that," Willow said just as simply.

"Why not?"

"For one, he's working with the Council now, and we need him. I can't just put an end to that. For two, he's still my friend."

"He wants you Willow! You can't expect me to be okay with that."

"Even if he does, which is still unconfirmed by the way, what makes you think I want him back?"

"You mean other than the fact that he sees more of you these days than I do," Kennedy asked sarcastically.

"That's work! And thank you for the trust, by the way. Nice to know our relationship is built on such a solid foundation."

"I would trust you with anyone else. It's just him. Some random man or woman comes on to you in the course of the day, I know we're stronger than that, but you and Oz have history, you _loved _him, a part of you still does, and… I don't know if we're stronger than _that!_"

"Well, I'd like to think we are, but I'm not just going to cut Oz out of my life because you tell me to, so I guess you'll have to decide pretty quickly if we are or not!"

"Is that an ultimatum?"

"No, you're the one issuing ultimatums. I'm just trying to figure out if we have a future or not."

"And what have you 'figured out' so far?" Kennedy sneered.

"That unless you grow up pretty damn fast, we don't!"

"Well then, just… fuck it!" Kennedy yelled, throwing her empty bottle so hard that it shattered in the empty sink.

* * *

Riding alone in the back of the truck, Buffy easily heard the raised voices coming from the kitchen as Reece pulled around to the side of the house.

"Uh oh." Jumping out, she walked around to the back, listening to the yelling, until she could see Willow and Kennedy through the window. "Not good."

It was late and Reece didn't bother putting the truck in the garage tonight. He locked it up and threw Faith the keys.

"I'm going to bed."

"Me too," Rona said, and they both walked towards their respective dormitories.

Alone in the garden, Buffy glanced at Faith before she focused back on the window again.

"What do you think's goin' on?" Faith asked, spinning the key ring around her finger.

"Not sure, but it sounds pretty heated. Not sure I want to intrude," Buffy admitted.

"We could always not," Faith suggested. "We could grab some blankets from the basement. Sleep in the back of the truck, under the stars. It'd be… romantic or something."

"Yeah, because you and romance are really something I want together right now," Buffy muttered to herself.

"What was that, B?"

"Nothing."

"Didn't sound like nothing."

Buffy turned to her, ready to let loose with her pent up irritation, when there was the sound of smashing glass in the kitchen. She dashed for the back door, wrenched it open and ran inside, almost colliding with Kennedy who was coming fast the other way.

"Whoa," Buffy put her hands out to stop her, her eyes darting around the room to suss out the situation.

Willow was standing shocked and ready to start crying, but didn't look physically hurt.

Kennedy's face was pale, tightly controlled, and the heavy breaths she was taking hitched in her throat. "Let me past!"

"Hang on a minute," Buffy said, not letting go of her. She glanced down, seeing the tattered jeans and lots of blood. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Kennedy tried to tear herself away and keep going, but Buffy wouldn't let her. Kennedy's face started to crumple, and Buffy softened her voice.

"Ken, are you okay? Do you need to sit…? Whoa!" The compassion in her voice broke the last of Kennedy's control and Buffy had to take a step back with the force with which Kennedy was suddenly in her arms, hugging her so tight she could barely breathe.

She teetered back on her Wonder Woman boots and her hands gestured at Kennedy's back as she looked over her shoulder, her expression enquiring 'What the hell?'

The breaking bottle had brought Giles and Xander rushing into the kitchen too, and they hovered on the periphery, obviously not sure what to do or say any more than she did.

_Are you okay? _She asked Willow, silently mouthing the words as Kennedy sobbed quietly into her neck.

"I'm fine," Willow said aloud, but she didn't really look it.

"Kenny?" Buffy asked with more urgency. "What's going on? What happened? Is Dawn okay?"

"She's… fine, we got… back… okay."

"Then what?" Buffy asked, glancing at the others in turn.

Xander gave a little shrug. "Kennedy and Oz had what you could call a small disagreement."

"What, when he was wolfed?" she chuckled. No one else so much as cracked a smile. "Oh."

Giles shook his head, looked helplessly at Willow for a moment and then turned back to the livingroom. "I must try and set Oz's arm for him; we can't risk taking him to the emergency room until he wakes up. Xander, would you assist me?"

"Sure," Xander nodded as he followed him back into the other room.

"Will?" Buffy asked, gesturing one-handed at Kennedy's back again.

Willow swallowed a few times, trying to speak, tears glistening in her eyes and then she was shaking her head, backing away. "I can't… I'm sorry, I can't…" And then she was shooting into her Magic room and Buffy heard the key turn in the lock the second the door was closed.

Kennedy gave a louder sob and suddenly Buffy could feel tears splashing onto her neck and running down to her shoulder at an alarming rate. Buffy sighed as silently as possible and tightened her arms around her.

"Tears, temper tantrums, smashing bottles. Close my eyes, I could be back in Boston with my Mother." Faith chuckled darkly as she walked to the fridge and got out a beer. "'Course," she added, looking around. "You'd have to add a few patches of damp and some 'roaches, but otherwise, pretty close."

"Not like you to open up about your past," Buffy observed.

"Don't usually think about it." Faith sat at the kitchen table and kicked back her chair onto two legs. "Been on my mind tonight, I guess."

"Well maybe that's what happens when you let an evil creature delve into your sub-conscious."

"When did I do that?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and didn't answer. It was almost laughable, or it would be if Faith's inattention and carelessness hadn't hurt so much. And if Kennedy wasn't squeezing the air out of her lungs so thoroughly even a light chuckle was possibly impossible.

The kitchen fell silent apart from Kennedy's choked sobs. Obviously embarrassed, she buried her head further in Buffy's neck, trying to stifle them. She felt a little guilty, feeling like she should be comforting Willow rather than her girlfriend, but Kennedy had clamped onto her first and what was she supposed to do, just toss the girl to one side? She ran her hand up and down Kennedy's back, kissing the side of her head, trying to calm her down the way she used to calm Dawn down when she was this upset.

She saw Faith lean even further back on her chair, sneering as she raised her bottle to her lips.

_Oh, come on,_ she mouthed irritably. Like she had a right to any kind of jealous reaction after tonight. Especially to something as innocent as this. She deliberately looked away from Faith to make her point.

"So are you about done there, Ken?" Faith suddenly asked. "Only me and Buffy are kind of on a date right here and I didn't plan on ending it watching you two snuggle, ya know?"

Buffy looked at her again, sending eye-daggers her way, but kept her voice mild as she said, "Impatient much?"

But Kennedy began to pull away anyway, so if nothing else Buffy's ribs were sending a thank you Faith's way.

"Yeah, sorry, I didn't… sorry." She stepped back, scrubbing her hands over her eyes.

"Its okay, Ken, Faith's just joking."

"Was I?"

"No, it's okay. Don't want to be responsible for breaking up another couple tonight."

Suddenly realising this might be more than just a lovers tiff between her best friend and the young Slayer; Buffy reached out and put her hand on Kennedy's shoulder.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, anyway, I should probably get some blankets so I can make up a bed in the dorm before it gets any later." She started to turn away.

"No, don't do that." Buffy pulled her back around again. "You can bunk in with Dawn tonight if you need to. She won't mind. Come on." She started to lead her towards the back stairs.

"What about…?" She looked over at Faith.

"Yeah, what about?" Faith repeated.

"We're home, so technically the date's over anyway." Buffy managed a smile. "Besides, you understand, right Faith?"

"Sure, whatever you say, B," Faith said reasonably, before adding under her breath. "As always."

Buffy bit her tongue as she went up the back stairs after Kennedy.

* * *

Dawn was lying on his bed when Reece entered the dormitory. "Hello."

"Hi!" Dawn bounced eagerly into a sitting position. "I thought you were never coming home."

"Well, no," Reece was torn between mildly irritated and happy to see her. "That's perhaps because you left the party hours before I did."

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that." She looked sheepish for a second. "But that wasn't really my fault. You disappeared and then everything went crazy. Where were you anyway?"

She sounded mildly suspicious and his irritation grew. "Off having passionate sex with Kennedy obviously."

She chuckled softly and looked away embarrassed, which he hadn't expected. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that too. I know you weren't… you know, with Kennedy. It's just that…" she hesitated before finishing her sentence. "… I know you could have anyone you wanted, and I guess I can't help wondering why you want me."

He stared at her for several moments, waiting for her to look at him, but she didn't. Eventually he said genuinely, "Because you're beautiful."

"No I'm not," she said bashfully, ducking her head further.

"Fine, don't believe me." He walked towards his little locker and started to unbutton his sweat-damp shirt.

As he drew nearer she looked up at him coyly, and he had to admit it was nice that it wasn't an act. Much more appealing than the obviously experienced cheerleader he'd chatted up earlier.

"Do you really think so?"

"Of course I do. Anyone who doesn't is either blind or stupid," he said matter-of-factly. He took off his shirt, missingthe appreciative look in Dawn's eyes as he looked in his little mirror with a grimace. "I, on the other hand, look and smell like a wet dog."

"No you don't." Dawn chuckled. "You couldn't if you tried."

"Oh really," Reece finally smiled at her. "Come closer and take a big whiff, then tell me otherwise."

She grinned. "I don't have to; I can smell you from here."

"Oh, wonderful." He tried to frown, but smiled instead. "So how come you are in here anyway?"

"I wanted to say goodnight. Plus we didn't seem to get to spend so much time together at the party as I'd hoped."

"No, it wasn't the most successful date, was it?" He agreed as he walked around to the other side of Craig's bed to where the boy's small rucksack was. "What with you so anxious about Kennedy and then Rona going missing."

"Rona!" Dawn blurted like she'd only just remembered her.

Reece felt annoyed on his Slayer's behalf. Dawn was supposed to be her friend after all.

"I found her. Eventually. She was in the walls." He said shortly as he pulled one of Craig's clean t-shirts out of his bag.

Dawn frowned. "What was she doing in the walls?"

Reece picked up the bottle of water on Craig's locker and poured a little of it onto the t-shirt. "Chasing a… well a really short Irish bloke."

Dawn digested that and then sat forward in amazement. "A Leprechaun?"

Reece looked pained for a moment, but then said firmly. "Leprechauns don't exist."

"Like Pixies don't exist?" She asked dubiously.

"I…" Reece hesitated. "I'll have to consult some books before I can give you a definitive answer."

Dawn smiled knowingly.

He picked Craig's shower gel up from his locker and liberally squirted it onto the t-shirt as he looked curiously at Dawn. "What?"

"You are such a Watcher," she smiled at him.

He stopped in the act of scrubbing the t-shirt under his arms to smile at her. "You truly think so?"

She shook her head, still smiling. "Well, if I didn't before, the way you used 'truly' in that sentence just confirmed it."

He grinned. "Thank you."

He balled Craig's t-shirt up and chucked it into the dirty laundry corner of the dorm, and then used some more of the water to rinse the suds from under his arms. The rest of the bottle he poured over his head and used his hands to rub it over his face and through his hair.

"So, you found her and she's home safe too?" Dawn checked, standing up and walking around the beds to him.

"Yes, but it was pretty hairy." Reece picked up Craig's loose blanket – it wasn't precisionly tucked in like Reece's was – and dried his face. "So what happened to you… and the rest of the party for that matter?"

"Oh, that was pretty hairy too." Dawn grinned as she put her arms around Reece's neck. "Half the party got chased away by this weird werewolf…"

"Werewolf?" Reece indulged her closeness for a moment, before gently removing her arms so he could step away. "But it's not a full moon."

"I know, and that wasn't the only weird thing about him." Dawn looked a little put out, but she gave him some space as she said, off-hand, "And I nearly got killed by a Vampire."

"What?" He'd been about to walk back to his own bed, but he stopped and put his hand on Dawn's shoulder in concern. "Rona thought there was one there. Are you alright? Did he bite you?"

"He tried." She lifted up her hair on one side and he could see two long but shallow scratch marks on her neck. "I also almost got killed by a bat and a great big panther too," she added a little reproachfully.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there," he said sincerely, not liking the thought of Dawn getting even _almost_ killed. Not that he liked the thought of anyone getting almost killed.

"Well, you here now, so I guess I can forgive you," Dawn grinned.

"That's gracious of you." He grinned back at her for a second, before stepping away again and unbuttoning his jeans. "So, were you waiting in here for me?"

"No," she teased, following him back around to his own bed. "I've been waiting all this time to watch Craig undress, but he's not back yet, so..."

"He's probably been off snogging Wellsy in the woods ever since it got interesting." Reece chuckled as he pushed his jeans off, folded them and threw them onto Peter's old bed. "When it comes to scary – the boy's all flight, no fight."

"Well, if he's _snogging _in the woods," Dawn began, giving his body a very obvious look. "That means we have the room all to ourselves."

"For a while, I guess," he agreed, smiling. "But your sister's home."

"But she doesn't know I'm in here. This time of night she'll assume I'm safely tucked up in bed. And besides, her and Faith will be doing it like animals five seconds from making it through the front door," she added, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "So?"

She leaned up to kiss him, her fingertips lightly tickling up his arms to his shoulders as he leaned down to meet her lips. He knew he was taking a risk, but Dawn trying to seduce _him_ was so adorable, it wouldn't hurt to give her a little of what she wanted.

After a few minutes of kissing, he pulled away from her though. It was too cold to stand around in his boxers for long.

"I can't believe the night I've had. I've been in the field a few times now, with the group and one on one with Rona, but nothing intense like tonight has happened." As he spoke, he retrieved some sweat pants from his bag at the end of the bed.

"It was pretty intense for all of us I think," she said, coming closer to him again.

"Yes." He nodded. "And to be fair your night sounds more dangerous than what mine turned out to be, but then you are used to all of this, aren't you? I find that pretty amazing actually. That you've been doing this for a couple of years already, and you're younger than me, and you have no formal training."

"Amazing, huh?" She grinned and took his sweat pants out of his hands before he could start to pull them on.

"Dawn."

"What?" she asked innocently, chucking the pants onto another bed out of immediate reach. "It's not that cold. I'm not cold."

"That's because you're fully clothed," he pointed out, smiling.

"I don't have to be."

When he didn't answer, she kissed him again and he let himself be pulled down to lay on the bed.

"Warmer yet?" she asked a few minutes later.

"Yes thanks." He grinned at her and rolled comfortably on to his back, one arm still loosely around her waist. "I think I finally get what Rupert's been saying too."

"Huh? Oh, you mean Giles? Huh?"

Reece chuckled. "All the wisdom he's been imparting over the last couple of weeks, about how a Watcher and a Slayer can be a well-oiled machine, but only if you both work at it. The Academy doesn't teach that. As far as they're concerned a Watcher watches and a Slayer slays and the two don't really mix."

"What do you mean?" Dawn asked, although she seemed more interested in kissing the side of his neck than his answer.

"Well, a Watcher's job is to research for current and future threats and to provide his Slayer with the information he gathers. The Slayer's job is to go out and neutralise those threats using that information. So, aside from training, which is undertaken to a greater or lesser extent depending on the individual, the Watcher and Slayer do not really interact at all apart from perhaps a debriefing session once a day to exchange details of the night before's patrol and details that will be needed for the next night's patrol…"

"That's horse shit!"

He looked down at Dawn, who had stopped kissing his neck and was now looking back at him, clearly annoyed, it was quite sexy really. "Excuse me?"

"Giles and Buffy never had a relationship like that! He was her friend. In fact he was… is like family. They used to spend time together all the time, and he didn't just sit in his office Watching, he used to go out on patrol with her and when Buffy was grounded he used to do it for her."

"Yes." Reece smiled. "And he got sacked for it, didn't he? For being too involved in her life. Rupert's techniques were used in lessons all the time as an example of what not to do."

"Well… that's horseshit too!" Dawn sat up angrily.

He sat up with her. "I never thought so. There are many good reasons for retaining a distance between Watcher and Slayer, the fact that any night you may have to send your Slayer out to her death not being the least of them, but now I think I get it." His excitement at his epiphany showed in his voice.

"What do you mean, you get it?" Dawn asked uncertainly.

"The bond! The bond that we all hear about day in and day out, but that never rings true, because how can you forge something so strong if you're never allowed more than minimal interaction with the girl you are assigned to. I'm starting to think there was a reason for only a few of the Watchers diaries being on the syllabus. They probably banned all the ones that made the Slayer in question sound like a human being, God only knows why." He fell silent, thinking about it.

"Reece?"

He smiled at her, taking her hand and entwining their fingers. "Giles has been pushing for Rona and I to spend as much time together as possible, not just on patrol, but training together, organising private study sessions together. It all seemed pointless to begin with, and we don't exactly get on, but… now I think maybe I understand."

"So you're not the cold, heartless bastard you sounded like just a minute ago then?" Dawn asked, only half teasing.

He gave her a big smile and laid back down, drawing her with him. "I hope not. I would like to be a better Watcher than I think I've been educated to be."

"Good." Dawn smiled as she settled against him. "Because Watchers and Slayers should go together like peanut butter and jelly."

"Well, that sounds like a disgusting mix, but I agree with your point." He laughed and then kissed her.

She was grinning again when they pulled apart. "Good, so does that mean I can take my shirt off now?"

"Here, let me." Grinning himself, he swiftly unbuttoned it before sliding his hands around her waist beneath the material, pulling her closer for another kiss.

This one lasted longer and Dawn was almost moaning with pleasure when they finally had to give each other some air.

"This is more like it," she whispered as she shucked her shirt and kissed down his chest at the same time.

"Indeed," he agreed as he enjoyed what she was doing, his hands sliding up to stroke the back of her neck. There was silence in the dorm for a minute or two, apart from the sound of Dawn's lips trailing slowly down his stomach and his increased breathing. "Rona was incredible though, she'd been chasing the thing for ages even before I caught up with her, and then, when we were running around in the pitch dark, if it wasn't for her I'd have cracked my head open half a dozen times. Truth be told, I must have been slowing her down, but she never left me. Well, except when she jumped into the dumb waiter, but then she was following the Lepr… Irish bloke, so she knew I was safe…"

Dawn lifted her head to stare at him.

"That does take some courage, leaping head first into the unknown like… what's wrong?"

Dawn slumped onto his chest, groaning. "Nothing. Why don't you tell me about your adventure tonight?"

He tilted her face up, and smiling, gave he peck on the lips. "I'm sorry, I'm just excited."

"So am I," she said frustrated, and then blushed. "I mean…"

He kissed her explanation away.

Slowly she pulled away, stroking his face. "Tell me about what happened?"

"Are you sure?" he asked softly. "It can wait…"

It was her turn to kiss his words away and then she settled her head next to his on the pillow. "Really. I want to hear it."

He smiled. "Okay…"


	22. Act 4:9

Sorry. I know I said this would be the last part, but it's not. I swear I'm on the last scene though, it's just... being tricky :) Anyway, as I promised to post the rest by the end of the weekend, here's what I have ready. The rest _will be up_ some time this week. Happy reading!

* * *

They ended up crawling out of Buffy's bedroom window to sit on the balcony. It was freezing, but she figured Kennedy needed to talk right now even if the younger Slayer wouldn't admit it.

"So then what happened?" Buffy asked, pulling her cape tighter around her shoulders and wishing she'd thought to grab a sweater.

Kennedy shrugged. "He turned into a werewolf. How was I supposed to know he couldn't control himself? He's the one who keeps telling people he's all domesticated now." She fingered the tears in her jeans. "If you ask me it's a good job we found out that was BS before be lost it on someone who couldn't defend themselves."

"Oz is pretty good at not losing it on people. He voluntarily used to spend three nights a month in a cage for example." Buffy said softly. "How's your leg?"

"Healing, no thanks to him." Kennedy pulled her hand away from the torn material and crossed her arms on the lowest balcony railing. "So you think I'm making it up? What are you even doing out here if you've already jumped to your own conclusions?"

"I haven't jumped, and I don't think you're making it up either, but I'm not gonna go in there and put a silver bullet in Oz's heart just because you're jealous. You three have to sort this out between you, in a non-violent fashion, and find a way to work together."

"That's never gonna happen," Kennedy said adamantly.

Buffy sighed. "Not even if it'll make Will happy?"

"If Osborne is what it takes to make Willow happy, then she obviously doesn't need me. Besides, she made it pretty clear tonight that I'm not good enough for her. I'm not Glinda the good witch, full of mystery and light and endless frickin' empathy, and I'm not Rover the Wonder-mutt either, docile lapdog by day, savage defender of her honour by night." She gave a mirthless chuckle as she let her chin rest on her crossed arms. "I'm just a Slayer, and all I know is how to kick and punch and be pushy and possessive and pig-headed and all the other great Slayer qualities that Willow has suddenly decided she doesn't find attractive."

"Hey, I'm a Slayer too," Buffy reminded her. "And I'm none of those things."

Kennedy gave her a look over her shoulder.

"All the time," Buffy added with a little smirk. "Besides, despite being a brat most of the time, you do have a bunch of great qualities and I know Willow likes them."

Kennedy shook her head, looking out across the dark property below them. "Not enough. And Willow is special; she deserves to be with someone special… I thought being a Slayer would give me that, I don't know, edge, I guess, but it turns out that slayers aren't special anymore anyway, so…"

"Of course they are," Buffy cut her off. "_We're_ special. More special than ever. I mean it's true, I was more special when it was just me," she sighed almost wistfully, but then shook herself out of it. "But now we're a whole bunch of special and that's… pretty cool."

"Not according to the vamp that nearly killed me tonight. He seemed to think that the more of us there are, the less power we have between us. That we were easy pickings now there was more. Or something." Kennedy shrugged. "I can't really remember what he said, it's weird, like I dreamed it or something, but I know I didn't."

"Dracula," Buffy sneered angrily, almost hissing the name.

"I'm sorry?" Kennedy turned to look over her shoulder again. "Did you just say Dracula?"

"Yeah, and before you go getting all starry-eyed, he's a big loser, okay, so just don't. And don't listen to anything he has to say either; he's just messing with you."

"But that was really Dracula? I knew something felt different about him, but I didn't…" Kennedy shut up when Buffy dropped her head onto her arms with an agitated groan. "Okay, missing the point you're making, sorry, but blinded by celebrity notwithstanding, he said some interesting stuff."

"I'm sure he did, but it was all baloney."

"What if it wasn't?"

"Then we'll probably find out the hard way like we usually do. And personally, if it means I don't have to think about that damn vamp any more tonight, I'm happy to take my chances with the hard way later on."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, both gazing down at the ground ten or twelve feet below. Three shadows came around the corner of the house, talking excitedly with one another about unicorns. Buffy rolled her eyes and beside her Kennedy snorted. The three junior slayers walked across the back garden and entered their dormitory without ever realising they were being watched from above.

"Unicorns?" Buffy muttered, shaking her head.

"Your night didn't go too well either then I take it?" Kennedy asked sympathetically.

"It did, up to a point, and then it didn't." Buffy shrugged. "Being with Faith is just… taking some getting used to. There are some….unexpected difficulties, I guess you could say," she answered awkwardly.

"Like what?" When Buffy just smiled and shrugged the question away, Kennedy added. "I just got my heart broken by the only woman I've ever loved and the punch line is, I brought it all on myself. And if I'm the problem, I've got no way of fixing it. Whatever your difficulty is, it can't be as bad as that."

"Okay." Buffy sighed. "This is gonna sound stupid, but… I'm used to being… how can I put this…" she bit her lip, trying to figure out the best way to word it.

"Universally adored?" Buffy could hear the smirk in Kennedy's voice.

She hesitated. "Well, not universally, there were plenty of people in high school that didn't like me much, and Willow and Xander aren't shy of knocking me down a peg when they think I need it, but, as far as partners are concerned? A certain amount of adoration may have been involved. Not an unhealthy amount! Just…"

"You're used to getting your own way?"

Buffy was about to protest it was more complicated than that, but sighed instead. "Yeah. I'm not saying I didn't sometimes have to work for it, but, overall, yeah."

"Me too." Kennedy nodded. "Must be another slayer trait. Don't think I'm getting it this time though."

"No, well that's the thing. Usually when my boyfriends decide they want to do things their own way, and it directly conflicts with my way, well, that's usually when we end up going our separate ways, if you get what I mean."

"And Faith isn't falling into line?"

"I don't want her to fall into line!" Buffy said, glaring angrily at Kennedy.

"Sorry, I didn't mean…"

"I just want her to do everything I say, when I say and without arguing over every single thing." Buffy's lips twitched as she tried not to smile. "Is that too much to ask?"

Kennedy gave her a smile before leaning her chin back on her arms. "Willow didn't know how lucky she had it with me."

"I know it's something I've got to work on," Buffy sighed, mirroring her. "And I know I can't expect Faith to be perfect girlfriend material overnight. It's just sometimes it feels like bickering antagonism is our default position, and when she's being especially maddening its hard to remember why I want this to work."

"If it's so bad, why _do you_ want it to work?"

Buffy smiled, ducking her head slightly. "Because she makes me feel alive."

"Well, that's pretty vague," Kennedy muttered unimpressed.

"Okay, she… makes my heart race, just by looking at me." Buffy gestured outwards with her arms. "She makes me smile, even when she doesn't know I'm in the room. She makes everything real and exciting and… worth getting out of bed for." Buffy paused, gazing out into the darkness, before adding softly. "She gave me back the fire."

There was a beat of intense quiet and then Kennedy muttered, "Oookay." and Buffy chuckled silently. She hadn't expected her to get it.

Below them Andrew and Naomi came running at full pelt around the corner. Stopping by the picnic table they clung to each other, looking behind them fearfully. Buffy and Kennedy watched with interest, wondering if they were needed.

"_What is it? Why won't it stop chasing us?" _Andrew's voice travelled up to them, almost wailing. _"And how does it know my name!" _

"_A water demon of some kind. Probably upset that we disturbed his home, but…" _Naomi answered him breathlessly. _"… I, ah, have no idea how he knows you name."_

"_Andreeew!" _Came a long drawn out cry from around the side of the house.

Buffy and Kennedy looked at each other for a clue. Andrew could be heard hyperventilating down there. Naomi was muttering soothing words as she looked around. Quickly darting to the side, she suddenly came back into the square of light from the window carrying a watering can. Brandishing it like a weapon, she stepped bravely in front of Andrew.

"That girl has a lot of potential," Buffy murmured.

Kennedy turned to her incredulously. "She's about to go against a demon with a watering can!"

"I didn't say she was going to live long enough to realise it." Buffy swiftly rose to her feet in case she had to jump off the balcony quick. "But I like a girl who can improvise."

Kennedy sniggered beside her, also rising, and Buffy rolled her eyes.

On the ground, the 'demon' suddenly tripped and dripped his way around the corner. "What's wrong with you two? I've been calling you since the bloody bridge!"

"Craig?" Andrew and Naomi squealed in surprise at the same time.

On seeing Naomi holding aloft the rusty gardening tool, he sank to his knees on the grass, out of breath. "Who'd yer bleeding think it was?"

"The ghost from the house," Andrew said sheepishly.

"A water demon?" Naomi was also sheepish, but she sounded amused too. "You sounded, er, soggy."

"You wouldn't stop running!" Craig panted.

"We thought you were going to eat us," Andrew explained.

"Or drown us," Naomi added for good measure.

Chuckling, happy there was no actual threat now, except of maybe Craig getting pneumonia, Buffy and Kennedy tuned the trio on the ground out.

"So are you going to go finish your date now?" Kennedy asked quietly. "I appreciate you walking me back from the metaphorical edge and all, really, but I'm feeling better now, so you can go, if you want."

Buffy thought about it, but it was late, really late now, and Kennedy didn't sound as convincing as she wanted to. Plus there were other reasons.

She shook her head, "No. She may well be the first person to actually make me want to whistle while I work, and she does, I have, its… disturbing, but I'm still pissed at her right now. I think it's better if we just call it a night and talk in the morning. What about Willow? You wanna try and work things out before you both go to bed angry?"

Kennedy looked down, her thumbs firmly tapping the wooden balcony rail for a few moments before she answered.

"Nah. Neither of us is budging tonight. Maybe after she's slept on it, she'll think differently about the Oz thing." She shrugged, not sounding like she really believed it. "Or, you never know, maybe I will."

Buffy nodded. "Okay, well, since I'm turning blue I'm going back inside. Plus I've had enough of being Wonder Woman for one day. I don't know how she captured so many bad guys in this outfit. The bodice cuts off all vital circulation and the hot pants ride up …" Buffy twisted on her tiptoes, reaching behind her for the material. "… high up."

She was turning away to climb back through her window when the door to the boys' barn flew wide open and smacked against the outside wall. Reece and Dawn stumbled out, kissing heavily, giggling and ignoring Craig's complaints that followed them out into the night. Buffy's eyes went wide as she stared at them and then she turned the wild glare on Kennedy.

"I told you she was back safe, you never asked more than that," Kennedy said quickly and firmly.

Buffy turned back to the intense kissing going on below. "Dawn!"

Dawn and Reece sprang apart guiltily, both looking around for the source of the shout. Buffy would have laughed if she hadn't just spotted that Dawn's shirt was wide open.

"Oh my God! Could you be more of a hussy right now? You're in the garden, Dawn! Is even a _shred_ of decorum too much to ask?"

Pot meet Kettle; but at least in the woods she and Faith had been totally alone – at least she really hoped so. And anyway, they were old enough to have sex in public if they wanted, Dawn wasn't. Yep, that made her feel like less of a slut; Buffy rolled her eyes and concentrated on Dawn.

Who was now twisting herself this way and that, looking into the darkness all around her. "How are you doing this? Where are you? What are you talking about?"

"I can see your nipples! Cold tonight, huh, Dawnie?"

"Oh My God!" Dawn swung herself towards the barn wall, pulling her shirt closed over her flimsy bra, and came face to face with Craig looking out of the window. She jumped back and turned the other way, fingers thumbling too much to get even a single button done up. There were faces at the girl's dormitory window too, and as she turned towards the house, Xander peered through the kitchen window and Faith came out the back door, all wondering what the fuss was about.

"Oh My God!" Dawn repeated, assuming everyone had come out to gawp at her. Holding the shirt closed with both hands, she went sprinting past Faith into the house and straight up the back stairs without even saying goodnight to Reece.

"Now that was a pleasant way to end the evening," Buffy grinned as she climbed back through to her bedroom and headed towards a hot shower.

* * *

"Well, Gentlemen, we have indeed had an eventful evening," Owen remarked as the party started winding down and yawns were beginning to show.

"Yes, and I do not mind if it is not so eventful next year," Victor said dryly. "Although… if you have no objections, I will take the magic machine in the ballroom."

Owen waved his hand to indicate he didn't mind. "Truthfully, the further you take it from here, the happier I'll be. I'm still finding it hard to believe that those children managed to create something so powerful. The loss of their contraption will hopefully slow them down."

"It is in pieces. Do you really think you can fix it?" Fred asked hopefully.

"We can try. Igor, go and fetch the pieces."

Iggy looked up from his game of Solitaire on the card table with a questioning look in his lopsided eyes. Victor fidgeted uncomfortably as he realised what he'd accidentally done, but he held Igor's gaze with a similar expression. A tense, awkward silence seemed to blanket the gathering, the only sound Paddy's off-key rendition of 'Show me the way to go home'; further mangled by the Pheasant leg he was trying to gnaw on at the same time.

Standing up, Iggy relented with some attitude. "Fine, but when we get back, I want a raithe. In keeping with the rate of inflation this time. And a new bedroom. The bathement is cold, and the moth glowth in thpringtime… keepth me awake," he added in a small voice.

"Yes, done and done," Victor said so promptly it made him look desperate, but then good help was hard to find these days.

"And I want a broadband internet connection," Iggy put in quickly.

"You know I don't believe in all that technology…" Victor began, but as Igor tilted his head in such a way he appeared about to change his mind, he added quickly. "But I'm sure I can fix something up for you."

"Good." Iggy nodded, looking thoughtful. "In that cathe I'm going to need a computer too."

"Also done," Victor sighed. "Is that it?"

"And a…"

Owen cut Igor off. "I wouldn't push your luck."

Iggy grinned and let his request go unfinished. "Where would you like me to put all the pieces, Master?"

Zeke's tail thumped the hearth rug a few times. "You're so whipped."

Igor shrugged. "Hey, at leatht I never had an eighty year old Fairy Godmother make me her bitch."

As Owen and the Count tried to stifle chuckles, Zeke buried his nose under his tail in embarrassment.

"Hey!" Ptah looked down at him in a huff. "You always told me it was witch what changed you!"

Zeke sat up on his haunches, gesturing to himself with one paw. "Well, I'm pretty sure she had some magical abilities!"

Ptah made a sharp tutting sound and looked away. Paddy was sitting up, swaying slightly, and staring intently at him. "Oi, 'Tah, pal, d'yer wanter purchase a rainbow?"

"I'm still waiting for the one I brought from you in 'sixty-eight." Ptah groaned as he leaned over to fetch the brandy from the table beside the Count. Seeing everyone looking at him, he defended himself, "What? Rainbows were in in 'sixty-eight, weren't they?"

He handed the bottle down to Paddy. "Here you go, my friend."

"Ta… 'Tah!" The Leprechaun giggled and then fell over backwards as he tried drinking from the bottle.

"And everything returns to as it should be," the Count said with an air of finality as he gazed at his friends one by one. His expression was more doting grandfather than world famous vampire in that moment, but he soon shook it off. "Ready to begin again."

"I made up the guest coffin," Owen offered him.

"Thank you, but I brought my castle."

"Where did you put it?" Fred asked slowly.

Dracula pointed and they all looked out of the window just in time to see the shape of a castle a hundred yards away outlined by single flash of lightening in the cloudless sky.

Seeing Victor's eyes light up in appreciation, he offered, "I'll teach you the lightning trick one day, old friend."

"You always say that," Victor grumbled good-naturedly.

With a fond smile Owen, hat and boots now removed, sat back comfortably in his armchair to enjoy the rest of the night.

_TBC..._


	23. Act 4:10

Hi there. Here's the last past. I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

Dressed now in her warm pink bunny pajamas that made her look about six years old but were so warm and cosy-looking that she'd brought them anyway, and her furry cow print slippers, Buffy tapped gently on the connecting door to Dawn's bedroom. There was no answer, but she let herself into the dark room anyway.

"Hey," she said softly to the lump under the covers.

"I'm asleep!" The lump muttered angrily.

"Good, then perhaps for once we can do this without you talking back the whole time." As soon as Buffy had spoken, Dawn sat up and faced her. Buffy sighed. "Or maybe not."

"We weren't doing anything," Dawn insisted immediately.

"So Reece was in his underwear because he was finding the forty degrees outside too balmy?"

Dawn smirked. "Well, he is from England."

"Dawn, I'm serious. I get that you're the smitten little kitten right now and in your world the sun shines out of Reece's butt…"

"And in your world it shines out of yours, right?" Dawn said snarkily. "Are you, like, scared of the competition or something?"

Buffy stopped, feeling hurt. "There's no need to be so rude to me."

"Well, then, don't patronise me and I won't be," Dawn shot back irritably.

"Fine, no patronising. You are not old enough to be having sex…"

"In the State of Ohio the legal age of consent is…" Dawn butted in.

Buffy almost laughed, the little monster had gone and looked it up so she'd be ready for this conversation. She didn't miss a beat as she continued, "And in _this house_ the legal age of consent is eighteen. And don't tell me how old I was," she added, guessing Dawn's next argument. "I know how old I was, but there are plenty of differences between my situation and yours."

"Name one?" Dawn challenged.

"Angel and I had known each other for nearly two years and we'd been together for six months. You've known Reece a month and you've been together for two weeks – actually you'd been together for _one day_ the first time you slept together. I was seeing Parker for longer than that!"

Dawn shifted on the bed, not losing her insolent look for a moment. "Okay, so I'm not you. Newsflash. I knew that already. Not everyone has to wait six months to know they're in love."

"And not everyone has to have sex to prove they're in love," Buffy countered. "And if you really fell for the 'If you loved me you'd do it' line, you really aren't old enough to be having it."

"Of course not! I'm not just some stupid girl. I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't wanted to."

"Good, but the bottom line is, Dawn, if you want to be treated like an adult around here, you have to take the responsibility that goes with it…"

"We were responsible…!"

"I'm not talking about using a condom. Although, that's a must obviously, but there's more to it than that. We have girls younger than you living here. Impressionable girls filled to the brim with Slayer hormones. Their parents are trusting Giles' fake school to take care of them. What are they gonna think, worse, what are they gonna do if Miranda or Cici or Alison see you running around having sex with Reece all willy-nilly and figure its okay for them to do it too? I'll tell you. At the very least they're gonna drag the girl home and leave her vulnerable to any nasty that wants to pick off a fresh-faced, under trained Slayer. Or worse, they'll tell the police that their precious, innocent daughter is being corrupted by all the underage sex going on under the school's roof!"

Dawn was listening quietly, but from her expression Buffy could tell she was just using her quiet time to think up as many arguments to her logic as she could.

"Giles is already dancing on a tightrope as far as getting this 'school' approved by the authorities goes. The new Council is a house of cards right now, Dawnie, and trust me; it won't take a lot to knock it down. Even the wrong kind of rumours could do it, let alone one serious evaluation by someone looking for trouble. Do you get that?"

"I think you're over-reacting."

Buffy sighed. "I'm not; and you thinking that just proves you're not as ready as you think you are to make the kinds of mature decisions you've been making recently."

Dawn just scowled at her.

"I know it sounds like it, but that wasn't a criticism. It's just a fact. Those three girls look up to you, and we all need you to lead them by example, as responsibly as possible."

That got to her. Buffy saw Dawn's expression soften just a touch before she broke her obstinate stare and looked down at her bedcovers.

Buffy softened her tone too. "And even if you don't think you owe it to me, you owe Giles a little responsibility too for giving you a home. Which, incidentally, you won't have anymore if the 'school' gets shut down and he has to move back to England."

The dark bedroom was silent for a few moments until Dawn muttered, "We really were just kissing tonight."

"Well, that's good," Buffy said at length. "Kissing is good. I have no problem with you kissing him all you want. Just, please, keep it to that for the next year… or three. Three years is good." Dawn looked up at her in disbelief and Buffy smiled to show she was sort of joking. "And kissing with clothes on is preferable; especially if you're in the garden… actually that's a good tip no matter what age you are."

Dawn ducked her head again, embarrassed. "I didn't think anyone else would be out there. Craig came in and started complaining about us kissing and we were sort of… caught up in the moment," she explained in a small voice.

"I know how that one goes," Buffy admitted with a weary sigh. There was another minute of silence, during which she thought about her own reckless behaviour in the woods. Shaking it away, she asked, "Did you enjoy the party?"

"I think interesting would be the best word to describe it. Did you slay the monsters?"

"Actually, no, we partied with them," Buffy gave a rueful chuckle. When Dawn looked up at her in surprise, she added. "It's a long story. I'll explain in the morning."

"Okay. Well, as much as I've enjoyed our little sister chat… _not_, I'm going to sleep now." She lay back down, arranging the covers so they were tucked under her chin.

"Fair enough. I'll see you in the morning." Buffy remembered why she'd actually come in here as she walked to the door. "Kennedy and Will had a bit of a disagreement earlier. Is it okay if Ken crashes in here so they can both get some cooling off time?"

Dawn half sat up again. "Oh my God, they didn't split up, did they?"

"To tell you the truth, I don't know, and I don't think they do either. But it's late. We should get some sleep and deal with it in the morning. Things will probably be okay then." Buffy honestly didn't know if she believed that or not, but she didn't want Dawn worrying about it at this time of night.

Dawn slowly lay back down. "Yeah, tell she can sleep in here if she wants."

"Thanks. Goodnight." Buffy let herself out of Dawn's bedroom door into the hall.

She wanted to take her own advice and go to sleep, but there was one more thing she had to do first. Quietly she went down the back stairs to the kitchen. It was empty, but the door to the Magic room wasn't completely closed. Walking to it, Buffy tapped gently a couple of times and poked her head around.

Willow looked up and over her shoulder at the tapping. She gave Buffy a wan smile before turning back to her laptop.

"Can I come in?" Buffy asked, already entering.

"Sure."

Buffy pushed the door to again. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better, but hot cocoa helps." Willow lifted a full steaming mug to demonstrate and then set it back on its coaster. "If you're looking for Faith, she's in the garden. Smoking herself to death."

Buffy glanced around at the walls of spell ingredients, magical apparatus and mystical charts and texts as she wandered closer to the desk. It was Willow's space, Buffy rarely came in here. It was cosy; in a trippy, incense-smelling way. The canary yellow curtains across the small window shut the darkness outside and the desk lamp and laptop screen together provided a bright, but soft light.

"I'm not. You have it looking nice in here," Buffy said quietly as she stopped at the desk beside the witch.

"Welcome to my bolthole," Willow murmured, her eyes not leaving the web page she was scrolling slowly down. "And possibly my bedroom now. Pity there's not actually room for a bed."

Buffy hesitated. "You still have a bedroom. Kennedy's kipping with Dawn tonight."

"Figures," Willow muttered, not sounding happy about it.

"I think she thinks you want it that way."

"Yeah, well, that's Kennedy. Why ask me when she can save time by making my lines up in her head?"

"Don't you think that's a bit harsh?" Buffy asked gently.

The look Willow gave her plainly said no. "But you obviously do so let's just not talk about it."

Buffy put her hand on Willow's shoulder, trying to get her to look away from the laptop again. "I just meant Kennedy's hurting right now too."

"Well why don't you go comfort her some more then," Willow grumbled petulantly.

"Will, are you mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you?"

Buffy leant her butt against the edge of the desk, regarding her best friend closely and partially blocking her view of the laptop screen. Willow still resolutely refused to look at her.

"I'm sorry if it looked like I was taking sides earlier," Buffy said carefully. "I wasn't, you believe that right?"

"Generally I only believe what I see with my own eyes. So, no, not really."

"I wasn't taking sides," Buffy said firmly. "Kennedy just took me by surprise and then you ran off… Would you look at me please?"

"I'm busy."

"You're looking six inches to the left of the screen!" Buffy reached behind her and closed the top down with a tap.

"Hey!" Willow looked at her angrily.

Buffy capitalised on the attention. "You know if I was going to take sides it would be yours."

"Yeah, I really felt the team spirit out there."

"What would you prefer, Will? Me, you and Xander ganging up on Kennedy just because you have a fight? What? Shall we depants her while she's shouting orders at the new girls? Make her run laps with a wedgie? Stick a sign saying 'kick me' on her back before she goes out on patrol?"

Willow smiled at that last one, but then resolutely quashed it. "I don't want anyone ganging up on her, but Xander's already joined Team:Kennedy anyway. So have you by the looks of it. And that's fine, whatever you both want." She stared sullenly at her laptop, skimming her fingers over the smooth cover.

Buffy used one finger to tip Willow's chin up. "I am perfectly satisfied with my Team:Willow membership, thank you. Now, do you wanna talk about what's really bothering you or not, because I'm too tired for any more snippiness tonight."

"Well, all I got is snippy."

Buffy sighed. "Do you realise how childish you're being?"

Willow turned to her once again. "I'm being childish?" she asked incredulously.

"Well, I'm not and you're the only other one here!"

"I meant Kennedy," Willow snapped. "She's acting like an immature, jealous brat, and you accuse me of being the childish one! That's wonderful. Tell me that quaint little story about how you weren't taking sides again?"

"Kennedy did a really stupid thing tonight. She did. You know it, I know it, she knows it. But can't even a part of you see why she did it?"

"I know why she did it. She was jealous of Oz. That's not a good enough reason to do something so stupid."

"Haven't you ever done anything really stupid because you were jealous?" Buffy asked. "I know I have. Tonight, for instance. Rubbing a Wolfman's belly, even over his shirt, is not a memory I'm gonna get rid of in a hurry… unfortunately," she added with a shudder. "Or the other week when I kissed Naomi because Faith was getting pizza with…"

"You kissed Naomi!" Willow almost shot out of her seat.

"Oh." Buffy's eyes went wide and she gave an embarrassed chuckle. "Forgot I hadn't told you that one. Anyway, the point is jealousy can make you act like a complete idiot; it brings out the worst side in people, but Kennedy's basically a good person, right? You wouldn't have been together this long if you didn't think so. Are you really sure you wanna give up what you guys have just because she let her emotions get the better of her tonight?"

"Did she ask you to come down here and defend her?"

"What, no!" Buffy sat back in surprise. "Of course not."

"Of course not? So she still thinks I'm the one in the wrong?"

Buffy held her hands up in surrender. "I'm not making this any better, am I?"

"What gave it away?"

"Is there _anything_ I can do to help?"

Willow opened the cover of her laptop up again and recalled the web page she'd been browsing. Class dismissed. Buffy glanced at the screen and saw the professional website of the Werewolf lady they'd visited that morning. The page listed the types of disorders she worked with; Buffy briefly wondered which category Faith fell into, before dismissing it as more extra-curricular Oz-stuff. Maybe Willow didn't want to talk about Kennedy because she'd already chosen her ex instead.

"Do you want me to just go away?" Buffy asked helplessly next.

Willow nodded silently, never looking up from her reading.

Buffy hung her head for a moment, feeling twice as tired as she had before she'd entered the Magic room.

"Alright," she said eventually and pushed herself off the desk. "Goodnight."

"I'm not mad at you," Willow said softly before Buffy could open the door. "I just can't talk about this anymore tonight. Sorry."

Buffy paused, fiddling with the doorknob. "That's okay."

Seeing the red-head's shoulders slump low as she ran a shaky hand through her hair, Buffy walked the few steps back to Willow. Squeezing her shoulders gently with both hands, she dropped a kiss on top of her head and felt Willow shudder with suppressed emotion.

"But when you do… " Buffy murmured. "… just come and find me, 'kay?"

Willow nodded slightly, and her returning "'Kay" was barely audible.

Giving her shoulders one last squeeze, Buffy left the room.

In the kitchen she stopped to take a deep breath and let it out slowly. That had been painful. With that in mind, she looked out of the window. Faith was just visible sitting on the picnic bench with her back to the house. Every twenty seconds or so there was a short orange trail as she lifted her hand to flick the ash away to her side.

Buffy watched maybe seven or eight of these as her heart beat faster and her palms grew damp, deliberating over what to do. In the end she let a gigantic yawn make up her mind for her, and with heavy feet she went back up the stairs.

When Buffy made it back to her own room Kennedy was sprawled out on top of the bed covers, fast asleep judging by the snoring. Fully clothed, right down to her boots.

Buffy sighed as she toed off her furry slippers, wondering how her night had ended up like this. Okay, she might have contemplated sharing her bed tonight with a hot, inebriated slayer, but firstly: wrong slayer, and secondly: way more inebriated than she'd had in mind.

Also, the snoring had to go.

"Ken?" She went to the end of the bed and picked up a boot, giving it a little shake. "Ken?"

"Sorry, sorry," Kennedy mumbled, but no change to the situation became apparent; for all intents and purposes, the girl was still fast asleep.

Giving up, Buffy decided to just do what she could to make the circumstances more bearable and then go to sleep herself. It was late. She was tired, upset, irritable and fed up. Sleep was probably the only thing that would make her feel better at this point and so she was fully prepared to welcome it with open arms, unexpected bedfellow or not.

Dirty boots on the bed, though, were a Buffy no-no. She loosened the laces on first one and then the other without Kennedy stirring. As she started to tug them off though, she got a mumbled, "Gerroff!" She ignored it and the boots thudded softly to the floor as there was a gentle tap on her bedroom door.

Buffy closed her eyes, groaning inwardly. There were only two people that might be, and she didn't really have the energy to deal with either of them right now. She thought about ignoring it altogether, but if it was Willow deciding she was ready to talk after all that would make this innocent thing thrust upon her look highly suspicious – and she _really _didn't have the energy for that!

She walked to the door slowly and opened it to see Faith fidgeting on the other side.

"Hey, I saw you go speak with Red." Faith's eyes flicked to Kennedy quickly and then back to her. "I just came to see if you were alright?"

"Other than having an unforeseen bed-guest for the night, I'm fine," she lied, not even trying to muster a smile.

"You don't look it."

Buffy shrugged.

"Can I come in for a while?" Faith asked hopefully.

"No."

"Not even for five minutes," Faith teased, taking a step closer and reaching for Buffy's waist.

Buffy stepped back, avoiding her. "As you can see, that's not exactly convenient right now."

Faith let her arms drop as her shoulders slumped. "Well, do you wanna come to my room?"

Buffy looked away, shaking her head. "Do you really think I'm interested in making out with you right now?"

Now Faith looked guarded. "Why wouldn't you be? Wait, I get it. You're still sore about the whole Drac thing?"

"Of course I'm still sore about it! It only happened five minutes ago. So sue me if I don't feel like fooling around with you when I still have the image of you drooling all over Count Dracula at the forefront of my brain!"

"It was thrall, Buffy! You said so! So why don't you get over yourself and give me a freakin' break."

"Yeah, well you didn't have to be quite so enthralled, did you? Especially when I was sitting right there. I told you to stay away from him, didn't I? But no, you knew better, never mind the fact that you knew I didn't like him, which should have made you want to stay away anyway, or you know, stake him even! No, you go and sit on his lap! You flash you neck about and go all 'Ooh, look at my stitches; ooh, look at my vampire bite, ooh, look at my nice, throbbing jugular!"

Faith just looked at her funny, clearing checking for signs of sanity and coming up empty. Obviously deciding there was no reasoning with a crazy lady, she tried a different approach.

"Okay, you know what? I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I should have listened to you. I was an idiot and I let myself get thralled. It won't happen again."

"No, next time it will be something else," Buffy said with too much certainty. "And the time after that it will be something else again."

"What exactly are you saying here?" Faith asked, sounding slightly worried now. "Are you gonna break up with me over something as stupid as this?"

"No. Because it's a little hard to break up with you when we're not even together in the first place."

"What?"

"We're not together yet, remember? We're just getting to know each other better, seeing if we'll work. And after tonight…?" Buffy gave a gentle shrug as she left the sentence there.

"We felt pretty together in the woods," Faith said defiantly.

"That was before… and it was clearly a mistake."

"I did nothing wrong tonight!" Faith said, her voice rising with her anger. "So don't come the frigid bitch with me again just 'cause you've sobered up!"

"Keep your voice down!" Buffy looked over her shoulder at Kennedy, but she still seemed to slumbering noisily. "And if that's your attitude, I think this conversation is over."

"My attitude?" Faith asked in disbelief, pointing at herself. "You're the one who seems determined to screw all this up. You wanna tell me why?"

"Not really, no."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because I'm tired and I don't really feel like having this conversation with an audience." Buffy hiked her thumb towards the bed.

"So come to my room," Faith said again. "Not to do stuff, just to talk this shit out before I explode. And you can sleep in there too if you want. I don't snore."

"No, I don't want to," she said simply. "I've had a long day, a really long day, and I'm beat and, rightly or wrongly, I'm angry right now and I don't think anything good is gonna come out of us continuing this conversation tonight."

"Ya don't, huh?"

"No, I don't. It can wait until tomorrow."

"And what about what I want?" Faith demanded.

Buffy rolled her eyes, groaning. "God, don't start this again."

"I'm serious, B. I'm asking you a perfectly reasonable question and I'll settle for a short answer, but you won't even give me that much, will you?"

"After you just called me a bitch, I'm not feeling all that inclined to give you anything." Buffy said. "I don't like being spoken to like that by people I'm in relationship with."

"Well as you just helpfully pointed out, we're not in a relationship." Faith sneered.

"Really good answer, Faith," Buffy sneered back and started to close the door. "I'm going to bed."

Faith's hand lashed out, holding the door open. "Yeah, well, I'm getting a little sick of having to come up with good answers for every one of your neuroses. I'm supposed to be your girlfriend, Buffy, not your fuckin' shrink!"

"My neuroses? I'm not the one being _forced_ into _'voluntary' _therapy!" Buffy snapped back.

Her words hung in the air between them, too late to be taken back. Buffy held her breath, cringing on the inside.

"Screw this," Faith stepped out of the doorway.

Buffy reached out a hand to stop her. "Look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I'm dead on my feet and its making me irritable and I know I'm blowing our argument out of proportion, but I just can't seem to help it right now."

Faith stared coldly at her, still on the verge of walking away.

"So please can we just stop for the night and pick this back up in the morning when I feel saner and calmer?" Buffy continued into her frosty silence.

"Well I guess if that's what you wanna do, that's what I'm doing."

"Faith," Buffy implored. "Please, I just want to go to bed."

All she wanted to do right now was introduce her head to her pillow. She'd never asked to get into all this tonight. If Faith had just waited until the morning, the whole conversation would have been totally different, and probably a lot more relationship-friendly. But Faith had pushed, and Buffy had given in to her urge strike back for Faith's indiscretion and now here they were.

"Yeah, I bet you do." Faith's eyes glanced past her again to Kennedy. "Bet you two just can't wait to get with the comfort snuggles, huh?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Buffy spat, giving Kennedy an embarrassed glance.

"What a surprise," Faith grinned nastily. "When I'm being a little friendly under thrall, that's a breaking up offence, but when you're sharing a bed with another chick, a chick you kissed a few weeks ago, I'm ridiculous for thinking that's a bit… inappropriate."

"That's because you know there's nothing to worry about!" Buffy insisted.

"Oh, but you were really convinced that I was gonna run off to Transylvania to start a little Vampire family?"

"I was never gonna break up with you over it!"

"Whatever."

"Look, I promise we'll talk through it all in the morning."

"Yeah, _maybe_."

Buffy didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean, maybe?"

"It means don't count on me being in the mood to talk in the morning." Faith turned and walked off down the hallway.

No, she definitely didn't like the sound of that. Buffy watched her walk away for a second before calling out, a little too desperately, "What about your goodnight kiss?"

Faith flipped her the bird over her shoulder without slowing down and then she turned the corner out of sight.

"Damn," Buffy muttered, wondering if she should go after her.

In the end, after standing in the corridor for five minutes, getting colder and wearier, she decided not to. Faith was just being grouchy because she wasn't getting any tonight after all; and Buffy wasn't about to start giving into that kinda crap.

'_I am too controlling!_' she mused as she softly closed her bedroom door and walked to the bed. _'But I'm doing it for the good of us, in the long run. Faith just has to realise that.'_

Not exactly in a gentle manner she pushed Kennedy to the far side of the bed so that she could get under the covers on her side. The light was out and her head was finally meeting her pillow when Kennedy murmured,

"You okay?"

"Not really," Buffy admitted. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Most of it." Kennedy rolled onto her back. "On account of you not exactly whispering."

"Yeah, well believe me, it wasn't exactly a conversation I wanted to have tonight at all."

"Yeah, I coulda lived quite happily without the conversation I had with Willow tonight, too."

"Well, to be fair, yours was less conversation, more getting into fights and throwing things," Buffy pointed out.

"True, but I had a little more to be upset about than my girl acting all flirty while under the influence of some hocus pocus thrall shit."

Buffy rolled onto her back too. "No you didn't. That's exactly what you had to be upset about."

Kennedy pointed a finger at the ceiling, being as dramatic as possible while lying down. "Yeah, but my sitch escalated. It might have started off with Willow just being flirty, and kissy, but now she's moved on to cuddling with him in her underwear – without the excuse of pocus too!"

"Were they really cuddling?" Buffy asked, sympathetically.

Kennedy sighed. "Honestly? I don't know. I just know I didn't like that I saw and… decided to ask questions later."

"I'm so scared of letting Faith hurt me, that I can't seem to stop hurting her," Buffy said quietly.

"And I'm so scared of losing Willow, I can't drive her away fast enough," Kennedy whispered back.

The darkness was silent for a moment before they both started chuckling softly.

"We still seem to be stuck on sucky loser square number one, don't we?" Kennedy said.

"Every time we climb a ladder away from patheticness, there does seem to be a slippery snake waiting right there, yes." Buffy sighed.

"So are we the good guys or the bad guys in this, because I can't even tell anymore."

"We're the good guys," Buffy said firmly, but then with less certainty "I think. We must be, right? All we want is to be happy with them and have them be happy with us. They're the ones making it all difficult."

"Valid." Kennedy nodded.

"I thought so."

The two slayers lay in silence for a while. Buffy settled the covers around her more comfortably. Kennedy linked her fingers behind her head, crossing her legs at the ankle as she stared at the dark ceiling thoughtfully.

"So, do you wanna screw to get back at them?" The younger slayer suddenly asked.

Surprisingly amused, or amusingly surprised, Buffy asked, "Each other?"

Kennedy turned her head, and Buffy could see her grin in the moonlight coming through the gap in her curtains. "Well, we're the only two here."

Buffy smirked. "I'm thinking that might push us towards the bad guy side."

"That a no?"

"'Fraid so."

"Good, 'cause I'm freaking exhausted." Kennedy laughed and rolled over to face the other way. "G'night, Buff."

"That's fine. You can sleep there. No problem," Buffy groaned sarcastically, but couldn't help smiling when all she received was a chuckle. "If you're gonna stay you might as well get under the covers."

"Thanks," Kennedy mumbled against the pillow. "But it's probably more sensible to just stay where I am."

"True. Getting…" Slow snores stopped Buffy from adding anything else. "Oh, that's just great."

Rolling her eyes, she turned over herself and tried to get comfortable. Lying there, waiting for sleep, her mind inadvertently ran through her exchange with Faith.

'_She called me her girlfriend!' _she suddenly realised, smiling into her pillow. _'That's a first.' _

Maybe it was a silly thing to focus on now, Faith might not even feel the same after their argument, but it felt monumental. It was a sign – bigger than her sweet words about trust earlier, which at the party Buffy had been starting to think were just to get in her pants – that Faith was serious about her.

Pity she'd blown it before the sentiment had even sunk in, but it was still enough for her to fall asleep with a smile on her face. The rest they could work out in the morning.

_Hopefully_

* * *

Willow opened her bedroom door and looked around the empty room dejectedly.

It wasn't completely empty. Goorzar was in her bed, gnawing at the plastic side fretfully. She looked up in anticipation when the door opened, but seeing it wasn't her Mommy, she immediately went back to the gnawing; little whimpers escaped her and her eyes followed Willow as she moved around the room getting ready for bed.

"Kenny deserted you too, huh?" Willow sympathised as she pulled on her pajamas on the other side of the room.

Goorzar made a strange little bleating sound and buried her head under her blanket.

"Don't feel bad. She still loves you." Willow promised. "She's just not thinking straight right now."

She brushed her hair as she stared at the bookcase recently refilled with books, remembering the night before when she'd been so sure she and Kennedy were finally making progress.

Giving a quiet, humourless chuckle, she muttered, "Boy, was I wrong."

But where had they gone wrong? She honestly didn't know. She'd never stopped caring for Kennedy, never stopped inching cautiously into love with her. Maybe that's what she'd done wrong; she'd been too cautious, but,_ hello, _she had good reason!

And coming out and saying the words wasn't something that should be done lightly, because what if she'd made a mistake… like she so obviously had!

Willow didn't really believe that, as much as she wanted to, but Kennedy _had _changed over the past couple of weeks. She'd been totally supportive about finding Oz, right until he showed up. And the lust spell induced kiss obviously hadn't helped anything, but Willow hadn't meant for that to happen. Kennedy had kissed Buffy and she wasn't holding that against her!

"Maybe I should," she said to Goorzar as she rubbed moisturiser onto her arms. "Maybe me not being jealous enough is what made her so jealous."

There was no other reason she could think of. Okay so she'd been spending some time with Oz, but nearly all of it had been work related and they'd never really been alone. A concession she'd made without Kennedy needing to ask her too, which should have counted for something… but apparently didn't.

Willow shook her head as she recapped the lotion bottle. She wasn't going to stop seeing her friend, just because Kennedy didn't like it. Either they were strong enough to survive that or they weren't; and if they weren't maybe they weren't meant to be together. Tara would never have acted like this. And yes, before Goorzar could learn more words than 'Bad girl' and remind her, she knew Kennedy wasn't frickin' Tara, but sometimes it was difficult learning to live with and love someone else.

The bottom line was Tara would have understood and so would Oz have… so why couldn't Kennedy?

"Oz had a point too," Willow mumbled as she turned back her bedcovers. "He never treated me the way Kennedy has recently. Not that she's been treating me bad, just… indifferently."

The last couple of weeks Kennedy's _indifference _had hurt so much, and she'd been trying to put a brave face on it, but… maybe what if that had come off as indifferent to Kennedy?

She wished she hadn't thought that; somehow it made it worse. Of course it made it worse. If Kennedy didn't know how she felt then it made a little sense of her actions tonight. It didn't condone them, no way, but maybe Willow could see it, just a little.

"I nearly killed Veruca," she said in a small voice. "I couldn't do it, but for a moment, or several, I wanted to."

She sat on the edge of her bed staring into space until Goorzar gave an extra loud whimper. She looked down at the baby demon to see her just poking her head out of her blanket. Only her nose and eyes were visible and she gave Willow a look more pitiful than she had seen on any human.

In her raspy tone, she burbled, "Mommy."

"Oh!" Willow's heart broke a little and she slid off her mattress to land next to the dog bed. "You just said Mommy for the first time! She still loves you, Sweetie. She just can't be here right now, because… because… she, uh, can't. But you'll see her in the morning, I promise. I'm here though."

"Wizzow," Goorzar burbled as she climbed from her bed to crawl onto Willow's lap.

"Oh! Oh! You just said Willow!" She returned the cuddle the demon was offering her.

"Mommy," Goorzar mumbled again, burying her furry head in Willow's neck.

"She still loves you," Willow repeated softly as she held her. "And, hopefully, she still loves me too."

"Love-zus," Goorzar burbled as Willow rocked gently from side to side, unexpected tears dampening the demon's thick fur. "Love-zus."

The end

* * *

_There you have it. Thanks for reading._

_To be continued in **Episode 9: Anywhere but here...** sometime soon._


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